Dark Wounds
by socool83
Summary: Peter Parker's worst day lands him into a world he never imagined living in. As he rises to be New York's savior, he is faced with problems from the personal to the supernatural. Problems which will mold him into the hero New York needs him to be.
1. Remorse

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**REMORSE:**

God, I have no idea how long I had been laying there. Minutes? Hours? Maybe even days. The slabs of granite were familiar to me now, as was the loss of time. I would come here everyday, just to think. But it was hard to think without bursting into a sudden fit of remorse.

"Shit…it's my fault…" I cried.

That feeling never went away. Never will.

Today was different though. Today was the first day of my new life. A sort of…metamorphism almost. The graveyard was only the beginning.

**xXx**

I took a taxi home. I couldn't find a reason to call Ben…couldn't find a reason not to call him either. Guess I just wanted to be alone. Just me and the Latino taxi driver, thinking back to simpler times. Times where I wasn't a human bug…or an orphan. The taxi driver was obviously getting bored and turned on his police scanner. Glad he did, thinking only depressed me.

"Squads 6, 9, and 13, report to a shooting over near Lexington." The scanner crackled.

"_I'm sorry son, they…they didn't make it."_

Guilt.

"_Whadya gonna do? Shoot me?"_

Death.

"_Hands up! NOW!"_

Murder.

"Hey…hey, buddy. You alive back there?"

"Wha-how…?" My head was pounding uncontrollably.

"We're there, sunshine."

"Yeah…yeah, thanks for the ride." I mumbled as I started to get out of the taxi.

"Whoa! Wait a second, pal!" He locked the doors. "Pay up." I didn't blame him.

"Huh? Oh, right. Sorry…" I handed him a twenty. I didn't know how much the ride cost, but the look of satisfaction in his eyes told me I just lost about fifteen bucks.

My body felt numb as the taxi pulled away from the curb. The sidewalk was lifeless, as was the street. My brain, however, was feeling the opposite. It felt overloaded and I felt sick. I entered the building slowly, not wanting to attract attention. I could feel people staring at me from all angles, but I brushed it off. Guess a 16 year old kid in a muddy t-shirt and jeans wasn't "New York normal" but the constant shoot-outs and death were.

**xXx**

The elevator's hum was louder than I remember and I started to regret not taking the stairs. I leaned against the wall and started wondering if Ben would be home…I forgot my key. Luckily he was inside to greet me.

"Hey pal! Where were you?" Ben asked, cheery and smiling.

"Nowhere…" I trailed off, still walking to my room.

"Yeah, ok. Sure." Ben stuttered. "I have some-"

I closed my door behind me.

"-Chinese food here…" Ben finished, feeling ignored.

I fell into my bed, literally. Staring at the ceiling I realized I would have to get my mind out of the gutter. I thought about it for a while and decided it was at the top of _tomorrow's_ "To-Do list" and fell asleep.

"Good night, Aunt May and Uncle Ben." I muttered to myself half-asleep.

They weren't there to say it back.


	2. In Cold Blood

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**IN COLD BLOOD:**

Police cars were always a sign or fear, corruption, and death as a kid. I never knew how to react when I saw them. Should I be scared that something bad happened, or happy that the police showed up to stop it. Now, police cars are a sign of memories best left alone.

**xXx**

I walked home feeling played. I did what was asked and yet I got half the money. Half! I knew showbiz was bullshit, but I fell for it anyway. I was asked to do 5 shows, and in return: 10 thousand dollars. Apparently, the producer of the program wasn't impressed and I was left with 5 thousand. Cheap bastard got what he deserved when I let a man holding a bag of money escape, a bag of the producer's money. Karma's a bitch. My worries were heightened as I reached the house.

"Police cars?" I stammered under my breath as I quickened my pace towards the house.

The officers were chatting; some taking notes, others questioning neighbors. One officer saw me and caught the attention of another who started a chain reaction. Soon, none of the officers wanted to talk anymore. They all just stared. I knew something was wrong, something horrible had happened, I just didn't know what. Before I could open my mouth, an officer with combed brown hair and a tan trench coat walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. It was Captain Stacy. His daughter, Gwen and I are good friends in school. I recognized him instantly.

"Can we talk?" he asked almost unsure of himself.

"Yea-yeah, I guess." I spit out, scared.

We walked around the corner of the house, away from the commotion. I knew what he was going to say, I just needed him to confirm it.

"There…there was a burglary. A man, walked into your house, asking your uncle for money. He must have said…something and…well, he didn't like it…" He stated, regret in his eyes. "He shot your aunt and uncle instantly and ran. I'm-I'm sorry, son…they didn't make it." He said, head titled towards the ground.

The words hit me like a wall. My head was spinning and my brain tensed up. I felt like I was about to fall over in my own self-pity.

"Peter…" He started before I booked it.

I took off down the street and made a left. Knowing he would follow me, I climbed up the building and onto the roof. I stood there letting it all sink in and without warning, fell against the wall and cried. The tears flowed down my cheeks and onto the roof. My life was already crappy enough without being an orphan.

Suddenly, I heard sirens. At first, I thought they were more cops coming to my house, but then I realized that they were speeding away from the house. I knew what was going on. They found the bastard who killed my aunt and uncle. They found "him." I ripped open my backpack and threw my hand in. There was no time to change into my whole outfit. I strapped on my web-shooters and concealed my face in my shadowy mask.

**xXx**

The cars stopped at an abandoned toy factory in the West Side. My arms were killing me from the long swing over, but my hate pushed me forward. I landed on the adjacent building and scouted out the area. The cops unloaded from the cars and were headed into the factory when a gunshot rang out and hit one of the cop cars, shattering the windshield. The police took cover and drew out their pistols.

The guy had proven he was dangerous and was making a point of it. I needed to sneak up on him if I was to take him out and make him pay. I made my way to the back of the warehouse using the other buildings. I swung my way to the building and quietly opened a window. My anger was building up as I realized how close I was to getting this guy, the guy who ruined my life.

My spider-sense kicked in immediately, allowing me to see in the dark. That was a feature that had scared me shitless the first time I turned off the lights one night. That's when I saw him. A direct approach would do it, but I wanted him to suffer, feel the pain I'm feeling. I picked up a piece of wood and chucked it across the room. It landed with a loud "Wack!" and knocked over a group of bottles, each one clanging and rolling along the floor.

"Shit! What was…shit. Oh my god! Gotta get outta here…" he sputtered, spinning in a circle.

I was already on the ceiling by the time he had caught his breath. I yanked out a ceiling tile and threw it at the window behind him. It hit the window with full-force and shattered it. Pieces of glass flew everywhere.

"Shit, man. This place is freakin' haunted." He said turning around instantly and running towards the door.

I webbed up the door quickly and crawled along the ceiling, making my way towards him. My anger was growing, and I could feel my teeth bearing. He wasn't getting away.

"What the hell? My God…"

"He isn't gonna save you now!" I yelled, jumping at him full force.

My hands grasped onto his shirt and plowed him into the floor with all my weight, his gun slid along the floor. I let loose, crushing his face with all my might, blow after blow.

_Whap!_

Aunt May!

_Crack!_

Uncle Ben!

_Snap!_

Murder!

I ripped off my mask.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me, you son of a bitch!" I screamed, picking his bloody face off the floor.

"Wha-no, no, no. Not you! I didn't know-I mean, I wouldn't have-Ohmygod!" He stammered quickly, eyes widening.

How did he know who I was? I took off his mask, my eyes widening and my heart stopping. It was the burglar, the same burglar who I let go at the TV studio. I let him go, and he killed Aunt May and Uncle Ben. No…**I **killed Aunt May and Uncle Ben. I was selfish, and I killed them.

I backed off, realizing there was no need to continue. He also got up, scrambling over to the pistol. I welcomed death, and closed my eyes.

_BAM!_

I opened my eyes. I wasn't dead, but I couldn't say the same about him. The police obviously heard the commotion and were there seconds after the gunshot.

"Freeze!" one of them yelled as they barraged through the door, pointing their guns ahead.

I was long gone by then. Sitting on top of the adjacent building, I wept, realizing I messed up my life. If I had stopped him earlier, none of this would have happened. I stood up and looked over the edge of the building. It was a long drop, enough to kill anyone…including Spider-man. I took one step…and fell. The drop seemed like forever, memories racing by. The ground was nearing, as was my end.

_Crack!_

I awoke in a cold sweat, screaming. I cradled myself in my arms for what seemed like an eternity, my inner demons were still there every night. The dream never got any easier…


	3. Not So Friendly Reminders

_NOTE: This is a REALLY long chapter. I apologize for it, but I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it. Enjoy! _

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**NOT SO FRIENDLY REMINDERS:**

The cold shower brought my mind back to reality. It wasn't the most satisfying thing, but it helped me think straight after the nightmares. I was actually kind of happy though. The nightmares were more intense, but were coming less often; possible a sign that I'm recuperating?

**xXx**

I walked into my room refreshed and clean. As I approached my dresser my foot kicked over the chest next to my bed.

"Son of a bitch..." I scolded to my self while rubbing my foot.

Once the pain had gone away, I noticed the contents of the chest; my old Spider-man suit. Well, it wasn't really a suit, it was just some old clothing and a ski-mask, but all the same…

The sight of the "suit" hadn't brought back any memories, or chills down my back. Actually, looking at it felt good…great! I shrugged off the feeling and put it back in the chest.

**xXx**

"Mornin' Pete." Ben smiled, putting on his tie. "Ready for your first day back at school?"

I looked at the calendar.

November 17th.

"_Damn. What is really time to go back already?" _I thought to myself angrily while pouring a bowl of Cheerios.

"Yeah, I guess so…" I said spacey.

"Otto called…" Ben said trailing off.

"Otto? Why?" I said surprised, taking a spoon out of the draw.

"He cares, I guess." Ben said shrugging his shoulders. "He said that he can't wait to see you after school." He walked over to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup.

Dr. Otto Octavius. He's one of the world's most renowned nuclear scientists. I go to his lab after school for college science courses every Tuesday.

"Cool, cool." I said trying to change the subject. "So, hows, um, how are things at the Bugle…?"

"They're pretty good. Jonah has me working on some geneticist named 'Curt Connors'. Maybe you've heard of him, because I don't have the slightest clue on all this science crap." Ben joked, gulping down his coffee.

I looked at the clock.

6:38 AM

"Otto's mentioned him a couple of times." I replied, dumping my cereal in the trash.

"Ask him about this Connor's guy." Ben said interested. "It would be nice to know some information on him."

Ben finished his coffee and looked at the clock.

6:40 AM

"Oh crap!" Ben sputtered. "We're late."

He ran over to the sink threw his glass in. He looked at me quickly while he went go grab his coat.

"Get you're stuff, pal!" He said ushering my over to my backpack.

I picked up my bag waited outside the apartment door patiently. Ben rushed out and pulled the keys from his pocket in one motion.

"Damn." He snuffed as he ran back inside. He came back a second later. "Forgot my cigs." He smiled, waving a packet of 'Marlboro' cigarettes in his hand.

"What else is new?" I smiled.

"Smartass." he laughed, threatening to push me down the steps.

**xXx**

The rain was miserable; even more miserable than yesterday. Yesterday I could stay at the graveyard for 2 hours and barely get soaked. Today, it would take two minutes to get soaked. The constant wind didn't help the matter either.

I was more than happy when Ben called a taxi for us. We climbed in and closed the door. I couldn't help but feel bad for the handful of stragglers on the sidewalk.

"Midtown High School." Ben said to the driver, teeth chattering.

I looked at his shirt. He had one of the new Daily Bugle employee pins on.

"Hey can I look at that?" I asked, my hand reaching for the tag.

"Yeah, yeah…here." Ben snapped it off and placed it in my hand.

"Ben Urich: Investigative reporter." I read aloud.

The night of the murder; Ben was the only person in the social services department for me. Apparently Captain Stacy called him asking if he knew of anybody willing to take me in to finish my last two years of high school.

He volunteered in a heart beat.

I gave him back the pin, and sat back in my seat; appreciating the rain splattered windows of the taxi cab.

**xXx**

Arriving at Midtown High was like a strange family reunion. Everything was still familiar but it felt like I hadn't seen it in ages.

I walked to my locker, which was covered in "I'm sorry" notes. Pity notes I assumed. I tore them all off when nobody was around threw them in the trash. I kept Harry and Gwen's. I knew there's were sincere; even if they had called me a hundred times before.

I headed for first period with high hopes and good thoughts.

**xXx**

Being back at school was bittersweet. It kept my mind of my troubles and gave me something to do; something I was good at. At the same time, I was known as "the orphan." People looked at me weird and ignored me all together. A note on my locker wasn't weird but actually talking to me was…

**xXx**

I was…less that happy to be walking into third period science. While it was my only class, excluding lunch, that held both Harry and Gwen, it was also my only class with both Flash and Kong.

Flash was a mental bully. He didn't physically hurt you by will, but he wasn't afraid to insult the crap out of you until you felt physically hurt.

Kong however, was not so bad. Despite his appearance; he was a softy. He listened and laughed at Flash but when he needed science help, I was always there. I actually kind of liked Kong. He was the kind of guy you don't like, but don't hate. Talking to Kong was like talking to distant relative.

**xXx**

"Hello, Peter." Mr. Trainer beamed. "Glad you're back. I suspect your break was not wasted."

"No, sir." I replied kindly.

I took a set between Harry and Gwen.

"Oh my God, Peter!" Gwen chirped, jumping out of her seat and hugging me.

"Hi…Gwen." I coughed. "Little tight."

"Sorry" Gwen said, embarrassed.

"Hey, buddy." Harry chimed patting my back once Gwen had taken her seat.

"Hey, Harry." I replied. "How's your Dad?"

"Eh, the same." Harry spat, resentment in his voice. "Busy, busy, busy."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't point Dexter himself." Flash announced taking a seat behind me.

Ugh. Flash Thompson. That wasn't even his real name.

"Yeah, I'm back, Flash." I moaned. "Don't get too excited; your hair gel might catch fire."

"Ok, ok, class." Mr. Trainer boomed. "Today we are starting our first lesson in the human anatomy."

"Oh, oh, oh!" Kong sung, raising his hand quickly.

"Yes, Kong?" Mr. Trainer asked peeking over his already low hanging glasses.

"Are we going to dissect people?" he replied happily.

"Yep." Flash said smiling. "Starting with Peter's aunt and uncle."

The class went silent, like a gunshot had gone off.

A _suicide_ gunshot.

A _murdering_ gunshot.

Flash continued to smile, but it soon left his face quickly when he noticed no one was laughing, but staring at him in dismay. He looked at Kong for a reassuring laugh. Kong got up, glared at him and moved to another desk.

"Eugene." Mr. Trainer said calmly. "Get. Out. Now."

"But Mr. Trainer…"

"NOW!" he yelled, teeth bearing.

Flash left, head hung low and closed the door behind him.

Mr. Trainer took a few seconds to let it all sink in.

"Peter…I'm so sorry about that." He sighed, sincerity in his voice. "That will never happen again."

"I can deal with Flash." I half smiled. "No worries."

"Good…good." Mr. Trainer whispered, standing up straight.

"Peter…" Gwen began, putting her arm on my shoulder.

"You OK, dude?" Harry asked.

"Guys, really, I'm fine." I laughed. "I just wanna learn. Ya know, the reason we all came to school."

They both backed off, feeling helpless.

**xXx**

It was a pretty normal day, aside from third period and I was strangely excited to head over to Octavius' lab. I usually wasn't, but the weird reunion feeling I had been getting was nice. However, my locker showed me more about Kong than expected.

I made my way to my locker, squeezing through the "end-of-the-day crowds" and opened it quickly. My ninth period English teacher wanted to talk to me about the robbery which severely put me behind schedule.

I opened my locker to find a note.

"_Oh crap. Another note." _I thought to myself bitterly.

The note read:

_Hey, if you got time, meet me by the senior parking lot after school._

_Kong_

This gave me quite a shock. Why would Kong want to talk to me? Even though I was already late, I couldn't help but see what Kong wanted.

**xXx**

I arrived at the senior parking lot quickly, not wanting to waste anymore time and saw Kong drinking a 'Monster' next to the dumpster.

"Hey, Parker" Kong chocked, forcing the mouthful of energy drink down his throat.

"Uh, hey, Kong…" I sputtered, not sure how to react to the animal-like greeting.

"Sorry 'bout that." Kong apologized, tossing the can in the dumpster next to him. "We need to talk."

"About?"

"Flash."

"_Great. The one subject I didn't want to talk about."_ I thought angrily.

"What happened in science today…was messed up. I-I didn't know Flash was goin' to do that." Kong said quietly, scratching the back of his skull. "It was a sincere question and that douche bag made me look like I set it up."

There was real sincerity in his voice. Kong was a person after all.

"Kong-" I started.

"No, no." Kong interrupted. "I need to put this out there. It may seem like I go along with Flash, but lately, he's been nothing but trash. And I'm sorry…for everything."

"Kong…I really appreciate that. But it it's too much to ask; can I go? I'm late for something" I said, embarrassed .

"Yeah, sure…." Kong said waving me along.

I began to turn around when Kong called me over again.

"Crap. Wait!" Kong called.

I came back quickly wondering what else he needed to say.

"I'm having a party at my house…and well, I'm inviting you." Kong smiled. "Before you say anything, you can bring Harry and Gwen. It's all cool."

"Thanks, Kong." I said, taking the invitation.

**xXx**

I was five minutes late to Octavius' lab, which was amazing. Considering all the set-backs I thought I was going to be at least a half hour late.

I walked in and noticed he was talking to a girl, woman, over his desk. She was probably an inch taller than me with purple hair and a nice smile.

I walked over, embarrassed by the newcomer.

"Ah, if it isn't Mr. Parker." Otto shined with his light German accent.

"Hi." I replied politely.

"Peter, this is Carolyn Trainer. She's a student of mine at Manhattan College." Otto began. "She's majoring in genetics and is my top pupil"

"Nice to meet you, Peter" Carolyn beamed, holding her hand out for a handshake. "Otto's told me a lot about you."

"Say, does your father teach high school science?" I asked, shaking her hand carefully.

"Yes, he does." She responded in amazement. "He got me into science. How'd you know?"

"He's my science teacher." I smiled.

"Good, now that you two have met. I think me and Carolyn will begin work." Otto interrupted. "You, Mr. Parker, have some homework to finish." He smiled.


	4. Great Power

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**GREAT POWER:**

Otto and Carolyn continued to discuss their private work while I enjoyed myself with some Trigonometry. Missing a month of school wasn't the most ideal thing considering the amount of homework I had to make up, but it helped me concentrate on my own problems. I rubbed my temple to help myself cool down. I had been sitting here for over two hours trying to complete as much as I could before going home. It wasn't exactly the most fun I've had at Otto's lab but it sure beat mindlessly listening to Otto from time to time about his problems with his mother.

Otto had some big emotional problems. At age 27, he asked the girl of his dreams, Rosie, to marry him. She accepted, but his mother did not. Otto was constantly coddled by his mother during his younger years, and because of his strong feelings for her; he broke up with his fiance. He moved from his native Germany at age 29 and started up a lab here in New York. He still argues with his mother over the phone from time to time. Those are usually the days where he stays in his office and I leave without notice.

I looked at the clock on my phone.

5:26 PM

It was time for me to head home. I looked out the window to decide whether I walk or take a cab. The rain had lightened to a slight drizzle. I decided to walk.

**xXx**

5: 49 PM

I regretted walking home. 10 minutes into my walk, it began to pour; It hadn't stopped by the time I got two blocks from the apartment. My hood was stuck to my skull and my hands and knees stung from the cold.

"Leave me alone, you sick-"

Someone was screaming. I couldn't tell who it was, or where it was coming from. I stopped for a second to try and pinpoint the direction of the screaming.

"Someone! Help!"

It was down the alley to my left.

I crept down the alley, trying not to make any sound.

"Be quiet!" another voice boomed above the rain.

It was a man talking this time; trying to yell and whisper all at once.

I snuck my head around the corner to see what was going on.

There were three guys, all unarmed. They were surrounding a young woman. She had her shirt ripped and a bloody lip.

"A lot of trouble for a purse" I said quietly.

That's when I noticed something strange about this scene. They were beating the woman, but she had no purse. It was laying on the ground 10 feet from the group.

It was rape.

Anger filled my chest. I snuck around the corner, extremely quietly. Each footstep made me nervous, but one step closer to these bastards.

One of the men backed up a few feet from the other two to take a breather. I got behind him and struck. I kicked out the back of his knee and caught him by the neck. I wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his mouth and nose. I tightened my grip and before long he was out cold.

The other two hadn't even noticed. The woman was out cold by now and the two men were taking a break after the beating they just unleashed on the poor woman.

"Who's first?" one of them smiled.

"You guys make me sick." I spat.

The men turned around in shock.

"Look at this fool." the other one laughed, relieved. "Thinks he's the police."

The other began to walk over. "Come on." he placed his arm on my shoulder. "Why don't you-"

I grabbed his arm and twisted it, causing him to bend over. I grabbed him by the back of the head and kneed him in the face, breaking his nose.

"Argh! Myb nose!" he screamed falling down, holding his face.

I stared at the last man. My chest filled with hate. The people on the streets ignored this woman. If it wasn't for me, this could have been a lot worse than a beating.

My feet pushed me forward, splashing the water covered pavement. The man stood still, frightened. I grabbed him by the neck pushing him up against the wall. He started at me, fear in his eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" I sneered.

"We-we-we were just-"

"Just what?" I yelled. "Raping this woman? Do you think that's funny? Does that give sick bastards like you pleasure?"

"No, we-" he began.

"Does it?

The man began to cry. Going on and on about how he didn't want to do it but his friends did. Idiot.

"Do something with your life, before you really mess up." I grumbled.

I let go of him, but my eyes never left his face.

"Tha-Thank you" he sputtered, running away, into the street.

I took a deep breath and scratched my head. I hadn't done anything like that since Aunt May and Uncle Ben's murderer.

It felt good.

"Uh…?" the woman moaned, waking up.

I left. Who know's what would have happened if she saw me? Would she call the cops? Think I'm some freak? Thank me?

Didn't matter, didn't really care for the sediment at the moment.

**xXx**

I flung open the door and began to head for my room. I was in a rush, hoping Ben would stop to talk to me. Ben stopped me almost immediately, armed with a cigarette.

"Hey Peter. How was Octavius'?" he asked cheery.

"Uh, fine."

"Did you ask him about Connors?" he took a puff of his cigarette.

"Yeah. He gave me his address." I pulled out the piece of paper from my pocket. "Here."

"Thanks, Peter." Ben smiled. "Appreciate it." There was sincerity in his voice. I could always count on Ben for a pick-me-up.

"Don't worry about it." I smiled, entering my room.

I closed the door behind me slowly. The only good thing to come out of Aunt May and Uncle Ben's death's was Ben. I shook my head, ridding it of any thoughts other than the one I wanted. My Spider-man suit.

I threw my backpack down and walked over to the chest next to my bed. Slowly, I bent over and opened the case. There it was, same as before. A black ski mask and blue shirt with a cheaply made white spider.

"With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility" Uncle Ben's voice rang out in my head.

Maybe there was more to this suit that I hadn't realized. I was given these spider-powers...maybe for a reason? Stopping those sick bastards today lit a fire inside me that I hadn't felt in…a while.

I wasn't just Peter Parker.

I wasn't just some wimpy little 16 year old.

I was Spider-man.

To be Spider-man, I would need a new set of clothes.

**xXx**

November 20th

I woke up briskly, looked out the window and smiled. It was a clear day, perfect to pick up the last piece of my new Spider-man suit.

The clock read 10: 46 PM, the store would be open by now. I dug into my pants pocket and pulled out a small piece of folded loose leaf. I snatched a pencil off the desk next to me and slowly read the list.

_Black combat boots: Check_

_Grey cargo pants: Check_

_Black under armor: Check _

_Blue hoodie: Check_

_Black paint: Check_

_Materials for custom made belt: Check_

_Material for mask: In Progress_

I erased the "In Progress" next to "Material for mask" and wrote "Check." I folded the paper back up and smiled. I was almost done.

**xXx**

I glanced at the clock, needle in hand.

8:19 PM

Ben was leaving for work. That meant he was going to say goodbye, and see the mask. I stashed it under my pillow and ripped open a book. Not more than 30 seconds later did Ben walk in.

"I'm going, Pete."

"Uh-huh." I droned, not taking my eyes off the book, pretending to be involved in it.

I took a quick glance after the door shut to make sure he wasn't coming back. I tossed the book over my shoulder when I was sure he was gone.

I studied the mask. Making sure all the holes were tight, the one-way eye pieces were snug, and, the most important, it fit.

Everything was in the right places. A sense of accomplishment filled my body and I let out a laugh.

**xXx**

I grabbed the phone out of the sewed-on pocket on my belt.

8:29 PM

Right on time. The costume was more comfortable than I had thought. Ripping the sleeves and hood off the hoodie helped that.

I observed the alley. It was tiny, but not cramped; just right.

There was a tiny, closed off alley next to the apartment building that could only be accessed via the security office. It was originally used to hold confiscated items, but once the security office was abandoned in favor for a larger room, so was the alley. I hadn't ignored the room however. I held my "training" equipment down here. Punching bag, weights, and dart pads. Being a superhero required more than powers, it required skill. If I wanted to survive longer than 10 minutes, I would have to practice.

At 8:30 PM, every night for 3 weeks, I would practice. Using the punching bag to practice my hand-to-hand combat, the weights for quick lifting in times of emergency, and the darts to practice long-distance web shots. These skills were essential if I was to survive. Uncle Ben's words raced through me every minute.

With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility.

He was right.

**xXx**

I took a deep breath in my chair and relaxed. The cold wind whipping against my face. With one shaky hand, I reached out and grabbed my web-shooter. I had enhanced the design. Before, whenever I ran out of web fluid, I would have to replace the hold one by digging into my pocket and finding a new one. It was time-consuming and potential dangerous. In response, I created "The web-shooter revolver." It was my basic web-shooter except I based the web-fluid compartment on a revolver. It was a spinning wheel with nine slots. Each slot holding a web cartridge. Whenever I ran out of web-fluid, I would spin the compartment one notch to the left, replacing my web-fluid.

I thought it was pretty ingenious. I checked my phone with beady eyes.

December 13th, 11:55 AM.

I had to go to the Bugle with Ben in five minutes. I sighed and threw my web-shooters into my backpack along with my camera and the pictures I had taken.

The forecast called for snow.

Snow doesn't stop Spider-man.


	5. Hot Off the Press

**Note! The last chapter was so short because I wanted to give you something before this one. This one took a while to write and I'm quite proud of it. Still no Spider-man though. Sorry. **

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**HOT OFF THE PRESS:**

12:01PM

I told Ben I had something to take care of something. That was half true. I could have rode with Ben in a cramped, nauseating taxi cab but something about that just didn't appeal to me.

Swinging through New York was relaxing and mind-numbing. It wasn't simple though. All the target practice helped my aim. Without it, I might as well be a splattered mess on the corner of 5th and Broadway.

Swinging through New York in my street clothes was not an option, so for quick-change purposes, I wear my costume under my clothes. The hoodie is quite difficult to hide under my shirt but I make it work.

**xXx**

Daily Bugle.

It was a large tan building in the middle of Times Square. It was kept nicely and sported a large red "Daily Bugle" sign on the roof.

Ben wanted me here to finally meet the owner, J. Jonah Jameson.

From what I heard, Jonah was a stubborn, hypocritical, asshole. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Ben told me I would have to meet him today.

I began to walk through the newly cleaned revolving doors when my cell phone chimed.

_Beep, beep, beep._

I stopped walking to answer it. The phone continued to obnoxiously beep in my face until i pressed the "Send" button on the number-pad.

"Hello?" I began.

"Pete, it's Harry." the voice on the other end moaned.

"Hey…? You OK, man?" I worried.

"Uhm, yeah…yeah, I guess." Harry responded, sounding spacey.

I entered the Bugle realizing that Harry was taking his time. Time I didn't have.

"OK, then why did you call me, Harry?" I wondered.

"I'm…I'm worried, man."

"About what? Your Dad?" I knew that was his problem. With the amount of money Harry had, family problems were his only concern. Lucky bastard.

"Yeah, man. Something weird is goin' on man…"

"Hold on, Harry." I shot out quickly.

I held the phone to my chest and approached the front desk.

"Mr. Jameson's office." I told the woman at the desk.

"Name?"

"Parker, uh, Peter."

"Ah, yes. He's expecting you." she smiled. "Go on."

"Thanks!" I smiled back.

I pushed the "Up" button next to the chrome elevator and held the phone to my ear again.

"Back."

"Cool. Um, anyway…" Harry started, but before long he lost his train of thought.

"Your Dad…" I slowly let out, hoping it would get him started again.

"Right, sorry. I'm just concerned. He never comes home. He leaves early in the morning and comes home…early in the morning." Harry explained.

"What do you think is going on? When did this start?"

"Uh, I dunno. Couple weeks ago? Maybe a week before you came back to school?"

The elevator was reaching the top floor. Considering the "excellent" stories I've heard about Jonah, I couldn't afford a screw-up.

"Harry, I really need to go." I apologized. "Have you tried talking to…Gwen?"

"No, but-" he started.

Ding. Top floor.

"See ya, Harry." I closed the phone, feeling awful.

The top floor of the Daily Bugle was phenomenal. It was a large, sprawling room cluttered with desks, computers and people. The gray rug offered a stark contrast to dull, yellow walls. The room looked a hell-of-a lot better than the web-designer floor. Pastey walls and splintered wood have nothing on this room.

"Peter!" Ben called across the room, waving me over.

I snaked through the office, avoiding cubicles and dodging oncoming workers. Eventually, I made my way to Ben.

"Hey." I huffed.

"Peter, I want you to meet someone." Ben smiled, moving to the side revealing a young woman with curly, dark-brown hair and mesmerizing eyes. She was sitting at a desk

"Ms. Brant, Peter. Peter, Ms. Brant." Ben introduced. I met her gaze and couldn't help but smile.

"Hi-hi, Ms. Brant. Nice to meet you-you." I stuttered, not being able to take my eyes off hers.

"Please." she laughed. "Call me Betty."

I couldn't help but feel like an ass.

"Ok…Betty."

"Uh, Peter, I hope this isn't a bad time, but I think we should be showing Mr. Jameson those pictures now…" Ben interrupted, his eyes darting from me to Betty.

"Wha-oh, oh, yeah! Yeah, let's go." I jolted. I couldn't care less, but I didn't want to seem creepy around Betty. Creepier anyway.

Me and Ben worked our way to the other end of the room to a wall of windows and a single door. All the blinds were down and the door read "J. Jonah Jameson"

"Now, Jonah is quite the hysterical type. Keep your head down and do as instructed, okay?" Ben warned.

I nodded.

Yippee.

Ben opened the door swiftly letting the smell of cigarette butts and week-old coffee hit me in the face.

The room was plastered in a rich red color and bright wood. To the right was a large book-shelf containing books, magazines and even newspapers. On the left wall was about a dozen, framed newspaper's. To the back wall, along a row of revealing windows was a dark-colored desk. It was hidden under a layer of coffee mugs, paper, office supplies and one large phone.

A man in his fifties lay face-first on the desk, clothed in a plaid shirt and dark-grey work pants.

At first, I thought he was dead. Ben wasn't worried at all. He walked over to the slump-of-a-man and picked him up by his greasy hair.

He was laying in white powder resembling sugar.

J. Jonah Jameson was a cocaine addict.

"Jesus, Jonah." Ben sighed. "I told you to lay off this stuff."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme a second" Jonah spat quickly, laying back down in "white-killer" as Ben calls it.

Jonah took a big sniff and sat straight up.

"Woah! Now that…that is some good shit" Jonah laughed. "Quick, Ben, write a reminder that I need to tip Phil next time. This stuff is the freakin' BOMB!"

Jonah continued to smile until he turned his attention to me.

"What? What the hell are you looking at? Think this is some charity?"

"Jonah…" Ben sighed.

"I'm not gonna give you some of my well-earned money so you can go smoke pot or whatever it is you little shits do." Jonah continued, spitting in my face.

"Jonah!" Ben yelled.

"Huh? What?" Jonah stammered.

"This is Peter Parker…" Ben said, pointing towards me.

Jonah looked at me clueless. Ben noticed.

"The photographer."

"Oh, oh, oh. Why didn't you say so, son?"

I stared at him, hopelessly. I eyed the cocaine quickly, grabbing Jonah's attention.

"Ah, I see now. This makes sense now." Jonah smiled, scooping it into his hand.

My first thought was that he was gonna dispose of it, instead he walked over to me and offered it.

"Take it."

"Wha-no, no, no." I nodded, pushing his hand away. "I've got pictures."

"Oh…" Jonah frowned. "Forget this." he dropped it on the floor like trash and walked back over to his desk, taking a seat.

He turned towards Ben quickly.

"I'm trying to run a business here, Urich! Fire the person who is bringing this crap in my office."

Ben opened his mouth, ready to say something and instead just nodded, walking out of the office."

"Good luck." he whispered in my ear before leaving.

There was a weird silence between the two of us once Ben had closed the door.

"Get on with it, boy!" Jonah demanded, breaking the silence.

I unzipped my backpack shifting past my camera and web-shooters. My hand hit a pack of glossy plastic. I took them out slowly, trying not to bend them.

I handed them to Jonah carefully. Jonah took them without haste and studied the pictures. After a few seconds, he stared at me in disbelief.

"What the hell are these?" Jonah gasped. "Who wants to see pictures of old people, skylines and…ducks?"

"Well…" I began.

"Get out of my office and come back with real pictures." Jonah added, dropping my pictures in the trash.

I sighed, slightly disappointed. As I was turning around, my eyes caught a glimpse of something. There on the wall was a framed newspaper dated "September 27th"

The day after Aunt May and Uncle Ben were killed.

The article was titled "Human-bug Among Us?" and sported a picture of a man swinging between buildings. My initial reaction was that someone nabbed a picture of me in my old Spider-man uniform until i looked closer. It was an artists interpretation. I was clad in red and blue tights with stitched on black webbing and a large black spider motif on the chest. The eyes were large and white.

I looked like a fag.

"Jonah." I started, happiness spurring inside me.

"What?" Jonah answered angrily.

"This guy-the human-bug…he's still around."

"How would you know?" Jonah responded, interested and skeptical all at once.

"Because I see him around town. His name is Spider-man, and his outfit-it is a lot different…a lot!"

"Really?" Jonah stood up and began to walk over to me. "What's your point?"

"I can get pictures." I smiled. "Up close and personal."

There was silence for a while. Then, completely out of character, Jonah wrapped his arm around my back and squeezed, smiling like an idiot.

"Hey! I like you." Jonah laughed. "You're gonna make me rich kid-rich! Aha!"

He strutted over to his desk and sat down. He smiled for a while and looked at me. "Get out of my office!"

**xXx**

My first encounter with Jameson wasn't as bad as expected. He was actually pretty fun. I had spent more time than I had expected there. It was already 2:33 PM, Kong's party was in an hour and a half. Harry said he was coming. I hoped he still was even after I hung up on him. Gwen said "she would see." She wasn't coming.

I walked out to the street, the beaming sun blinding me. I pulled out my phone and called Harry.

C'mon, Harry.

_Beep!_

Pick up, Harry

_Beep!_

Harry!

"Pete?"

His voice sounded forced.

"What's…what's up, Peter?" he asked again. Harry's voice still seemed like it was being pushed through a printing press.

"Harry…? Are…are you alright?"

"Yea-Yeah, I guess-yeah." Harry sniffled.

Shit, Harry, what happened to you?

"Harry, I'm concerned." I stated. "Come over. We need to talk."

"Do I have-"

"Yes."

I hung up. Harry took priority over Kong's party anyday.

**xXx**

I waited by the door, running my hands through my hair. I was worried that Harry wouldn't show.

_Ding!_

Thank you, God!

I reached for the door knob before realizing I was getting ahead of myself. I pushed my left eye to the peep-hole and was relieved to see Harry standing there, hair unkempt, hands dug deep into his leather pockets. I opened the door, my eyes meeting his. We were silent for a while.

"It's because I'm black, isn't it." he smiled.

"You son of a bitch." I laughed.

Harry was so bad at breaking silence, he was good at it.

"Come in." I ushered. "Take a seat."

He walked in, rocking side to side and fell into the couch. I sat next to him, staring hard into his eyes.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"Nothing…nothing at all." Harry slowly responded.

He was lying through his teeth.

"Harry, don't gimme that bullshit!" I yelled, aggravated. "Something is wrong. It's obvious."

Harry sat there for a minute, staring at the ground.

"My Dad." he said eventually.

"Still?"

I was stunned. Harry never was a fan of his Dad, but this was getting weird.

"What happened, Harry…?"

"He revealed everything. I feel like such an idiot. How could I not see it? All this time, it was right under my nose." he babbled, standing up and pacing the room.

He continued like this for a while until he lost his breath and fell over.

"What did he reveal, Harry?" I questioned, trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about.

"He…Oh my God…"

"Harry!"

"He's an underworld crime boss!" Harry shouted, turning around immediately.

"Harry, how much have you been drinking?"

"What? I dunno, a lot, but I know that happened. I-I-oh, God…"

"Harry, look, I want to believe you, but…this is weird. I can't see your Dad being a crime lord." I explained, scratching my head.

"But…I know. I…shit…"

Harry wasn't in control of himself anymore. He was breaking down from the inside.

"C'mon, Harry. We're going to Kong's party." I helped him up off his feet.

"Are you sure? I mean…look at me!" Harry slurred.

He was right, he was a mess.

"It'll keep your mind off of your troubles." I reassured. "It'll be fun."

**xXx**

5:17 PM

Kong's party was packed. There must have been the entire junior class there, and then some more. Kong's parents obviously weren't home judging by the amount of alcohol present.

Me and Harry entered awkwardly feeling like the outcasts, even though Harry was not.

"Parker!" a voice called out in the kitchen.

Kong.

"Hey…Kong."

"Having fun?" he beamed.

"We just got here." I explained. "Fun hasn't kicked in yet."

"Ok, well-" Kong began before he was interrupted by Liz Allen.

"Hi, Peter." she slurred, batting her eyes.

Liz Allen. I had admired her through most of high school. It was hard not too. Her wavy brown hair sawing with each step and her big blue eyes breaking hearts. She was gorgeous.

"I have a science question…" she flirted, putting her hand on my chest and leaning towards me. "How do I look?"

"Uh…."

She fell into a fit of laughing at my response.

Drunk. Should've known.

"I have to meet someone…" I said in a hurry and left. I could hear her call my name as I made my way back to Harry.

**xXx**

5:21 PM

I couldn't find Harry. He must have left. I shook my head out of stupidity and thought maybe it was best for me to leave too.

I made my way towards the door, trying not to draw Kong's attention.

"There you are, Peter!"

Liz. Damn.

"Oh…hey! I was…I was just looking for you." I lied, smiling.

"Really…?"

Crap.

"Sure?"

"Well then…" She purred

I was frozen. She leaned into me again, this time pushing me back against a wall. She kept leaning in and eventually her lips met mine. It was a weird feeling, I don't know if I liked it.

"Look at Liz. Sucha slut." I heard from the crowd.

That's when I noticed something by the door way. A familiar face, shocked and upset.

Gwen.

Shit.

I pushed Liz off just as Gwen began to walk away.

"Gwen!" I called.

No response.

I turned my attention to Liz who was sleeping on the cough already.

"Hey, shitface!" someone called out to me.

No. Not now!

Flash.

"You got some balls to be showing up here, Parker." he spat.

"That's cool, Flash." I commented, wiping the spit off my face. "Thanks for telling me."

"Think your some…some wise-guy?"

He shoved me.

"Wise-guy is such…such a…bad word." I sputtered, joking. "I prefer…smart-ass?"

Flash shoved me again, this time out the back door and onto the porch. Knowing he would shove me again, I continued down the stairs onto the lawn.

"Right here, right now." he threatened.

"Sorry, Flash. I don't swing that way."

I was screwing with him only so that my anger couldn't get the best of me.

He threw a punch, a left hook. I took the punch and stumbled to my right. I didn't feel a thing.

"Next one wont be so easy."

A crowd was forming by now. I was debating whether to kick Flash's ass or take the beating.

A jab to the face caught me off guard sending me to the ground.

"Taking after your Aunt and Uncle?" he joked.

Bastard.

I got to my feet and glared at Flash. He was still smiling.

"Fuck…you." I swore.

Flash threw another left hook. I leaned backwards letting it slid past my face, and sprung back up delivering a "one-two" to his stomach followed my an uppercut to the chin.

Flash was too stunned to block or move and was one the ground in no time. He started to get up by I pushed him back down with my foot.

"The jokes aren't funny, Flash." I told him.

"Your just mad because I have the perfect family." he coughed.

I laughed. A real laugh.

"You're kidding, right." I managed to get out. "What's the perfect part? Your alcoholic Dad? Your unappreciative mother? Wait, it's the fact that you were an accident, right?"

Flash's face flushed. He knew I was right, and he couldn't stand it. I let him up and he scrambled to his feet and stared at me. I stared him back, you could feel the hate between us.

My Aunt and Uncle was his weapon.

His parents was mine.

Neither of us wanted to be hurt anymore. Physically or mentally. Our stare broke down. I just wanted to leave.

That's when he did, what I still think, is the most human thing he has ever done.

He held his hand out. A handshake. My mind was blown. Flash Thompson showing real heart. I couldn't resist.

With a shaking hand I grasped his hand and we shook.

I let go and walked past him.

It was getting late, Spider-man was needed.


	6. The Under Belly

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**THE UNDER BELLY: **

December 22nd, 8:01 PM.

Hand, foot, hand, foot.

The constant pattern to keep myself on the side of the wall was echoing through my head. I reached the top of the building, vaulting myself over the low edge. The hair on my neck stood up suddenly, and my brain shook. My spider-sense.

Two speeding cars raced down the street.

I took a running jump off the building and snagged a web onto the building next to me forcing me to make a sharp turn towards the cars. I held onto the web for a while and let go at the top of my swing, propelling myself upwards. With an extended arm, I latched onto the building in front of me and continued my swing.

Swinging provided a sense of peace few people experience. I absolutely loved it.

**xXx**

I had been following the cars for about ten minutes now. They didn't seem necessarily dangerous, but I wasn't taking a chance. Suddenly, both cars came to a screeching halt and turned into a nearby alleyway.

I made a quick left and perched myself on top of a nearby building. Three men emerged from each car, and gathered in the center. The look on their faces told me something was up.

I crawled down the building slowly, not wanting to be noticed. That's when I noticed that all these guy were huge. Either they all came from a body-building contest or they needed the muscle for something.

The men finished talking and took their positions. Two of them guarded the cars, one of them checked street level, one of them leaned against the building I was crawling on, and the last two began talking near the dumpster. None of them were armed which told me these guys were confident in their own abilities.

Another car arrived before I had a chance to strike. This one was more "professional" looking than the others. Two men emerged from this car. One looked just like the other men; tall and built. The other was shroud in a black trench-coat. The presence of these men drew the attention of the others.

"Dammit" I cursed under my breath. I no longer had the chance to take these guys out without running out into the open.

The men began to talk to one another. Something serious was going on, I was right.

I desperately searched for someway to hear their conversation. I looked up and found a wire crossing the alley way. I could hang-out up there unseen. Provided none of the Hulk-wannabe's decided to go star-gazing. My web-line stuck to the wire with no problem. I leaned my body backwards and jumped, my body launching upwards with the web acting like a zip-line. Eventually I made my way to my eavesdrop point.

"Interested?" I heard the man in the coat ask.

"Uh, I dunno, man." one of the thugs asked wearily. "How do we know you're not just playin' with us?"

"So, you're not as stupid as you look…" the hidden man smiled. The voice was familiar somehow, but no one I knew was this…sinister sounding. "I'll give you a…demo. Free of charge."

He reached into his pocket and took out a syringe. Heroin? Without warning he stabbed the man standing next to him with it, the poison running through his veins.

The man fell down on his hands and knees, shaking. Whatever was in that stuff was vile. The man puked and fell into a seizure. The other guys began backing away but the dealer was unfazed.

Who was this guy?

The subject stopped moving and lay still, his breath slow, steady. His arms were twice the size as before and his height had increased by a good foot. He towered over the other men. All of them. Suddenly, these steroid-junkies weren't so tough.

"Holy shit!" one of the guys laughed. "This…this is-is real! I had no idea."

"Fifteen." the man in the trench-coat snapped.

"Oh, yeah." the junkie reached into his pocket and took out a twenty. "Here."

The dealer looked at the twenty. It had a single red circle stamped to the top right.

"You really are that stupid, aren't you." the man chuckled. "I said fifteen…as in fifteen thousand!"

"You're outta your damn mind."

"Am I?"

The beast of a man snorted and took a step forward.

"You?" the man laughed nervously, leaning back. "Never."

"Good."

"Uh, how's bout a check?"

"I'll let it slide…this time." the man in the coat bargained, snatching the check from the man's hand.

"What about my twenty?"

"What about it?"

This guy was serious. I've seen drug-dealers before, but this guy was sinister. I wanted to take him in now. No telling what would happen if he started selling this stuff to every bum, low-life and druggie on the streets. He turned to walk away, pleased with his deal. I leapt from the wire, my body colliding with the test subject, knocking him over. Not the most subtle move, but I was in a hurry. One hand held him by the neck while the other let loose on his face. I wasn't sure what it would take to knock this guy out so I hit him seven or eight times, just incase.

It was a huge mistake. I looked up only to find the bastard already in his car. I had a chance if I went after him now, but I lost that chance when the hulking man, I thought I had put down, grabbed me by the head and threw me into one of the escaping buyers. The lucky part? It was the guy with the drugs. The unlucky part? The monster was charging.

I grabbed the drug-holder by the back of the shirt and took to the sky, leaping upwards, my free-hand grabbing onto the wire. The beast slid to a halt, tearing up the pavement. His yellow eyes burning holes in my forehead.

"Nice mug." I commented, still holding the screaming thug in my hand.

The test subject twisted and contorted, holding into his chest. Was my joke really that insulting? Without warning, the man-beast screamed and fell backwards. Lifeless. Dead. I looked at the guy holding the drugs.

"Maybe you should give that back to me…" I chimed.

With a shaky hand he gave me the vile and passed out. At least I wouldn't have to hit him.

"OK, New York…What surprises do you have in store for me?" I stared at the oozing, green liquid within the glass container. What prick would inject themselves with this crap…?

"Shit!" I sneered. I had completely forgotten about the dealer. "Dammit." That bastard had his fun. Just wait until I have mine.

**xXx**

December 23rd.

I sat in my room. Held up like a prisoner. I was mesmerized by this poison, this drug. It turned a normal man into a monster, a super-human. But at what cost? Your life? I stashed it under my pants. The sight of it was making me sick. At least it was almost Christmas. I had that going for me.

"No…shit." I stammered. I wanted to call Gwen. I shot a look over at my clock.

9:12 PM

That's not too late, right? No matter. I was gonna call anyway.

_Bring, bring, bring._

"Hello?" a voice on the other end answered. It was Gwen, thank God.

"Gw-gwen. It's Peter…Parker." My last name? Dumbass.

"I know who you are Peter. Now excuse me, but-"

"Wait!" I interrupted. She didn't want to talk to me, it was obvious. "I need to clear things up."

"Why don't you 'clear things up' with Liz…?"

"It's not like that…" I said sheeply.

"Oh really? Then why the hell were you kissing her, Peter?" The anger in her voice pierced my ears. Jealousy?

"Gwen…I didn't kiss her. She-she kissed me…first." I muttered. I had no intention in turning this ugly. I needed to get the truth out there first.

My spider-sense erupted. I snapped my head to the left, to the window of my bedroom. At first I didn't see anything, but then it hit me like a cannon ball. The building next door had just lit fire. It was a slow fire, but it wasn't letting up.

"Gwen…" No answer. "Gwen!"

"Oh, I thought you had left me." She bitched.

"Shut up and get your Dad."

"What?"

"I said get your Dad! There's a fire next to my building!"

"But Peter-"

"Go!" I hung up. My head was exploding with confusion. What the hell was going on? I snatched up my costume and leapt out the window, sticking to the side. The building fire had gathered the attention of most of the people on the block. I stuck my camera to the building with my webbing and jumped over the street. The people below began to notice me. How could you not? It's not like you see a man leap an entire street everyday. Well, maybe in New York.

I stuck to the building instantly, my hands and feet acting like suction-cups. The window next to me burst open, flames enveloping the stray pieces of wood.

"Spider!" a voice above me cried. It was a thick Australian accent.

I cocked my head up to see who was calling me. There stood a man, a grizzled, beaten man. He had messy black hair in a pony-tail and a thick goatee. He was dressed in lion-fur and cargo-pants.

"What are you doing on the roof?" I yelled.

He didn't answer, he took a rope off his belt and lassoed it around me. He was fast. With super-human strength he yanked me up the building and onto the roof.

"Oof!" I gasped as I landed on my side, my arm crushing into my ribs.

My attacker picked me up by the collar and pinned me against the air-conditioning unit.

"I…" he began, but was distracted quickly. He sniffed me over a couple of times, perplexed.

"Uh, excuse me, but in America this counts as…creepy." I joked.

"How old are you? Sixteen?"

"I know my humor is a little immat-"

"You smell sixteen." he interrupted.

"You can smell my age?" I asked, at a loss for words.

"This should be easier than I thought." he smiled, slowly pulling a wooden dagger from his pocket.

"I'm in no mood to be stabbed, mate." I responded in a bad Australian accent. I twisted my hand around and shot out a strand of line webbing, grabbing onto the weapon. I yanked, best I could, but he didn't let go. He doubled over, his face next to my knee.

_Pop!_

My knee colliding with his cheek-bone made an interesting sound as he stumbled backwards, holding his face. I landed on my feet and ripped myself free of his rope.

"I approve the originality though. You don't see many weapons in twenty-first century New York that don't shoot."

"You are a formidable opponent, Spider-man." he coughed, gathering his posture back. "I will enjoy killing you." He charged at me, swinging wildly.

Duck, left, jump, duck, right, right. His attacks were going in slow-motion, but they were still a bitch to dodge. I ducked again and landed a jab to his stomach, revealing his neck. I landed a shot with the side of my hand there and finished off with a left-hook. The Australian hit the ground hard. I caught my breath and began to go for the burning building when my attacker began to get up again.

"You're breaking every cliche in the book, Mr…" I opened for a name.

"Kravinoff…" he wiped his lip. "Sergei Kravinoff, but you can call me Kraven the Hunter." He dropped the dagger, and pulled put a bow-and-arrow.

"You have got to be freaking' kidding me!" I laughed, diving to the left to avoid his first arrow. "You are really going for that whole 'Jungle-Man' vibe, aren't you?" The next arrow skimmed my arm, cutting deep.

"Ow!" I sneered. The pain reminded me of the burning building beneath. I could hear the fire department in the distance. "You do realize there is a burning building beneath us?" I yelled, the next arrow just missing my neck. I dove backwards,twisting my body so my head was facing the ground. My hands landed on the ground, and pushed me backwards onto my feet. I took cover behind the air-conditioning unit and caught my breath.

Kraven approached my position carefully, not wanting to chase me away. He treated me like an animal. He turned the corner fiercely, swiping at air. I had escaped to the top of the air-conditioning unit when he was out of sight. I extended my arm and let out a web-line, smothering Kraven's head. With all my strength I yanked his 210 pound frame towards me. I pinned him to the ground with my fist and got two hits to the head in before he rammed his shoulder into my stomach and landed another punch to my face, sending me back to the edge of the roof. I peeked over the edge to see the fire department had taken care of the fire already.

"Don't you worry." Kraven assured, leaping towards me, pinning me in place. "It was a simple paper-and-match fire. Took no time to start."

"You started this fire?" I gurgled. He had his hands around my throat. "How did you know I was nearby?"

"I didn't. This was my fourth fire today." He wasn't joking. His face remained strong. Intent on killing me. I had managed to rid him of all his weapons aside from the bow-staff across his back, but I saw no use in that. Neither did he as he was focusing on strangling me. He had forgotten about my hands. I reached my arms above my head and stuck my web to the building across the street and pulled. I slid out of Kraven's grip and across the street to the building I had attached my web to.

"Coward!" Kraven screamed as he backed up a few steps. He was gonna jump.

"You're kidding me. You're never-" He jumped. He was gonna make it except for the fact that he can't stick to walls. He hit the building and fell.

Shit. I caught his feet with my webbing and crawled down the wall towards Kraven. Taking caution, I webbed up his arms too.

"You were to be my greatest prize." Kraven reveled.

"Cut the crap. Why did you attack me?" I questioned. Changing my attitude from bright and cheery to dark and cold.

"I honor the hunt, Spider. I would tell you under any other circumstances."

I picked him up the neck and yelled. "Tell me you Australian prick! What would be so important that you needed to burn five buildings?" His face showed no sign of emotion.

"You saw my leap-of-faith." Kraven began. "Yet you still think about interrogating me. Do you really think you're scarier than death? Do you, Spider?"

He was right. Kraven was impermeable. Like stone. Even the police weren't going to get an answer out of him. I would need to do this myself. I put Kraven in a sleeper hold, rendering him unconscious. I looked down at street level to make sure they didn't need me. Everything looked fine, when I noticed that George Stacy had showed up. He was off the clock. Gwen had to have told him. At least she still trusted me.

I rounded the corner and picked up my camera, the shots had come out nice. I knew I would have to sell them tomorrow if I was to buy presents for anyone. My schedule tomorrow would be packed.

12:00 PM-Daily Bugle

1:30 PM-Mall

5:00 PM-Call Gwen

8:30 PM-Go to Harry's

11:00 PM-Head home.

I don't manage my Spider-Man time within my schedules. That was unpredictable.


	7. The Stamp

_Sorry it's been a while, guys. I've had summer projects and vacation. Things are really confusing at the moment, but I promise you, things will get amazing. _

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**THE STAMP:**

His voice was burning a hole through my brain. I was tired of the bitching, the complaining.

"What do you take me for? An idiot?"

Shut up.

"Well?"

Shut up!

"…"

Thank you.

"PARKER!"

Dammit.

"No…" I answered groggily.

"Good. You don't want to know what I would do if you did." There was shock in his voice.

"Can I go?" I wanted to get out of there.

He stared blankly at me. White powder dusted his upper lip.

"…See you tomorrow…I guess." I managed to make out through my confusion.

The door popped as it opened. Probably not a good sign, but also not my problem.

"Parker!" he called me back.

For Christ sakes.

"Four-fifty…take this to Betty." I was shocked. That was twice what I expected. "Merry Christmas..." he said under his breath.

I smiled as I left the office. Jonah does have a heart.

**xXx**

I checked my phone for the time as I waved a cab over. The snow was horrible to swing through without my costume, which was at home.

12:19 PM

This counted as a small victory for me. I have never been good at being on time, not to mention early.

_Beep, beep, beep._

I answered the phone slowly. I wanted to celebrate my victory alone for as long as possible.

"Hello." I answered fake happiness laced within my resentment.

"Peter! Glad you gave me your cell number. This makes things a lot easier." the voice on the other end beamed in a German accent. Octavius.

"Oh, uh, hi, Doctor Octavius."

"Peter, I need you to come down to my lab. My mother is flying in from Germany and I want you to meet her."

"Uh…I dunno. My schedule is pretty packed. I'll see-"

"Can you make room?" Otto sputtered, desperate.

Otto wasn't gonna let me go until I agreed. So much for my schedule.

"Yeah. I think I can make it." I responded, reluctant.

"Great! Great…see you in an hour?"

"Yeah. See you then." I hung up. "Crap."

**xXx**

I looked at my phone as I climbed the steps to Octavius' lab, trying to dodge ongoing pedestrians and the occasional railing.

1:02 PM

I had almost made it to the door when my spider-sense went off. A man, with an oddly shaped head bumped into me and entered the lab. Not wanting to attract attention or get anyone hurt, I ran around to the back of the building and climbed to the roof. Otto put in skylights because he believes in "being green." That made it easy for me. I peeked over the edge and found, to my excitement, I could hear through the windows.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

Octavius.

"Yes…yes you can."

Creepy guy.

There was a moment of silence. The look on the weird man's face told me he had screwed himself over.

"Well?" Otto laughed.

"Uh…uh, well, I was wondering…you are Octavius, right?" He was buying time.

"Yes, I am." Otto seemed proud of himself. "Why do you-" Otto was interrupted when his mother entered the building, carrying a suitcase and purse. She looked at the circus-freak and stopped, embarrassment taking over her face.

"Oh, I didn't realize you had company, Otto…" she muttered in an incredibly thick Germany accent.

"Oh no, mother, it's quite alright. Come in, come in." Otto smiled as he began to walk over to his mother. The man with the weird head held his hand out.

"Lemme." he smiled. Otto smiled back. The goofball walked over to Mrs. Octavius and picked up her bag. They stared at each other for a second, awkwardness building up. The stranger backed up and ushered Otto's mother to go ahead. She smiled politely and walked towards Otto.

My worries began to lighten. Maybe my spider-sense was him bumping into me? I began to head back down and enter the lab myself when suddenly my spider-sense exploded and the visitor dropped the bag catching Mrs. Octavius by the neck.

"Argh!" she cried in shock and pain.

"What are you doing?" Otto yelled, running over. He was stopped short by the barrel of gun, a gun held by flat-head.

"Wanna risk it?" A smirk on his face. Otto was speechless. He lost whatever spine he had the second in mother was in pain. Poor bastard. I needed to get in there, but I had no costume. I decided to use my last resort I pulled out my phone and speed-dialed 1.

_Bring, bring, bring._

"911. What is your emergency?"

"There's a man here. He has a gun. He's taken two hostages; a man and a woman."

"Where are you?"

I gave her the address and hung up, feeling weird that I had to call the police, and turned my attention back to the lab.

"Who-who are you?" Otto asked, hands raised in the air.

"Name's Hammerhead." he replied in a scruff voice. That would explain the freaky skull.

"Otto…what's-what's going on…?" Mrs. Octavius coughed.

"Calm down, mother. Every-everything will be alright." Otto reasoned. "Just stay calm." he turned his attention back to Hammerhead. "What do you want?"

"I don't want anything from you. My boss is giving me everything I want. I just gotta give him what he wants."

"And…what does he want?"

There was silence. I could feel the tension in the air, it almost felt like I was going to chock on it.

"You." he hissed and shot his mother point-blank in the side of the head. She slumped to the floor, the surrounding area covered in blood. My stomach churned and I had to resist the urge to vomit.

"MOTHER!" Otto screamed, studying her lifeless body, laying in a pool of blood. "You monster!" he hissed as he charged Hammerhead. Hammerhead wasn't ready and was caught off-guard. Otto swung and landed a clean hit to his jaw. Hammerhead took to the ground against his will and was pinned by Otto. Otto managed to land two jabs to the face before Hammerhead used his trademark weapon; his head. He grabbed Otto by his shirt collar and smashed his forehead into Octavius' nose. Otto screamed in pain as he fell back, holding his nose. Hammerhead got up and snatched his pistol.

"I was gonna let you off easy." Hammerhead sighed as he wiped off his lip "Now you're screwed."

Octavius got up, fear in his eyes. He raised his arms, hoping that would somehow calm down the angry guy with a gun.

"Dumbass." flat-head swore and fired a shot into Otto's stomach. Otto doubled over, holding the wound. He took a few deep breaths and looked up at Hammerhead.

"I thought hired help got jobs done."

Hammerhead's face tightened up loosened. I was still trying to process what was going on. The police hadn't showed up yet, Otto was shot and his mother was dead. What a great day.

Without a word, Hammerhead unloaded a shot into Otto's chest and another into his lower stomach. Octavius fell and didn't move. I was speechless. My mentor was dead. I dropped from the building and leaned against the wall letting the memories sink in. I sniffled a few times and entered the lab to wait for the police after Hammerhead had left. No one on the street heard the commotion. My life was covered in the blood of others. To my surprise, I had no urge to cry.

I still needed to do some Christmas shopping.

**xXx**

I entered the mall lazily. What happened at the lab wasn't going to affect my Christmas shopping. The clock in the mall read 4:06 PM. I checked my pockets, just to be sure I had everything. I had my phone, seven hundred and sixteen dollars and my list. I looked at my list to make sure I knew what I was getting.

Ben:two hundred dollar gift card, ash tray.

Gwen:necklace.

Harry:?

Jonah:Fruitcake.

When first making this list, the fruitcake remark was a joke, but now, I was actually going to do it. Harry was a tricky shopper. When your best friend is worth over a billion dollars, it's almost impossible to get him a gift. I decided I was going to play it by ear.

**xXx**

4:55 PM

I had gotten everything on my list. The problem was that Harry was still without a gift. Octavius' broken body riddled my brain and made shopping harder than expected.

My phone rang again and set my mind in place. The caller ID read "Ben." At least it was a friendly face.

"Hey, Ben."

"Peter! Thank god…are you alright?" Ben took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" I replied, confused.

"I heard what happened at the lab…"

Crap. I forgot to tell Ben about Octavius' lab.

"Yeah…I forgot to tell you 'bout that…" I replied, sounding embarrassed.

"How…? What? You forgot to tell me? How the hell is that possible?" Ben gasped, partially angry.

"I dunno…" I wandered. "I guess I was just trying to keep my mind off it…"

"OK…well, at least you're safe. We'll talk when you get home tonight."

"OK. I guess I'll see you then." I ended the call there.

My mind switched subjects almost automatically, and before I knew it, I was thinking of Harry's gift again.

**xXx**

Ten minutes had passed and my new gift for Harry was "a girlfriend." I smiled at the irony and erased the stupid joke. The words were halfway gone from my list when my phone rang again. Harry this time. Speak of the devil.

"What's up, Harry?"

"Nothin' much." Harry answered enthusiastic. "Just checkin' to see if you were coming over tonight."

"Yeah…yeah, I was planning on it. Why?" I puzzled.

"Just checking. By the way, my Dad will be home."

"He's not working?" I expected him to bring up something about his Dad being a crime lord. Nothing came up.

"Nah. That won't stop us though. My Dad doesn't care…well, ya know, about anything." Harry said with a heavy heart.

"I'm sure he cares about stuff, Harry…" I assured.

"Maybe."

"OK, well, I gotta go. I'll see you at eight." I rushed, realizing that I needed to get him a present.

"Yeah, sure, see ya." Harry hung up fast.

I put the phone in pocket and looked at my list. In an instant, an idea exploded into my head. I put pen to paper and in a single, neat line wrote Harry's ideal present: A caring father.

**xXx**

8: 12 PM, Oscorp.

I slowly made my way to the top floor of the sixty-five foot skyscraper, home to both Oscorp Industries and Harry's home. The elevator stopped at the top floor with a sudden halt and I stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. Harry's home was halfway down the hall. It was the only apartment on the top floor. Hell, it was the only apartment in the whole building. Clutching the present tight in my right hand, I knocked on the door quickly. After all the brain-storming, I decided to get Harry a framed picture of us in our third grade class play and a fifty dollar iTunes gift card.

Harry sung open the door quickly, a huge smile on his face.

"Pete!" he sung, throwing his arms in the air.

"Harry!" I laughed, throwing my arms in the air, too-mocking him. I slid my way past Harry but stopped dead in my tracks. Something gold caught my eye. Something, familiar. It turned around, showing it's face. Gwen.

"Uh…" I moaned, my brain dying.

"Heh, yeah…never gave me a chance to warn you." Harry smiled.

I wasn't shocked that Gwen was there. I was shocked as to the NEW Gwen. The hoodie and sweatpants were replaced by a t-shirt and skin tight jeans. Her pony tail unraveled into a swirl of blonde beauty. A purse sat in the spot next to her.

"So…you ARE a girl." I joked, smiling.

"Ah, funny, asshole." she half-smiled.

"Please, take a seat." Harry said, extending his arm towards the couch.

**xXx**

10:50 PM

The "party" was surprisingly fun. Despite the fact it was just me, Harry and Gwen, it was fun. I had to head out soon, but my brain kept telling me "no." I had spent most of my time talking to Gwen while Harry joked about us. It was a nice feeling talking to Gwen again. I was afraid things had gone sour since Kong's party.

"Pete?" Gwen purred, leaning towards me. "I-I think we have to talk…"

"OK…about?"

"Well, I was hoping we could do it in private." she glanced at Harry, sitting in the adjacent arm-chair. Harry caught her glance and looked around.

"I think we're safe." he nodded. "I didn't invite anyone else."

"Could you uninvite yourself?" I smiled.

"Pfft." Harry spat, getting up and heading towards the bathroom. "Had to piss anyway."

The silence between us was unsettling.

"Well…" I broke the ice, hoping to open up for Gwen's side.

"I'm not gonna make this anymore uncomfortable for you." she explained. "…I like you."

"That failed." I joked. It made me way more uncomfortable. "Does that explain the new look?"

"Sorta." she smiled, pushing the hair out of her face. "I thought it would help you concentrate more on me…"

"Well, it worked." I grinned, leaning in towards her.

"Ya know, I've liked you since like the third grade…" she confessed, her face slowly turning red. She leaned even closer, our faces inches apart. My breath was heavy and my heart was pounding.

_"Do something!" _My brain yelled at me. That's just what I did. I jumped forwards, my lips meeting hers. At first nothing, the shock to her system seemed to paralyze her, but soon she was kissing me back, her tongue pushing it's way into my mouth. I did the same. Me and Gwen were best friends. Even more so now! The kiss was natural. It was like we had been kissing for years. We knew what to do, when to do it. The toilet flushed and our lips unlocked, our bodies sliding back into the seats we were in before Harry left.

"That was a quick piss." I noted.

"Amazing what the human body can accomplish." Harry smiled, gripping his crotch.

"Beautiful." Gwen smiled.

"So…" Harry feel into the arm-chair. "Was the 'kiss' as magical as you expected.

We were stunned. There was a brain inside of that skull of his.

"We-uh, I don't know what you're-" Me and Gwen stuttered almost simultaneously.

"I'm not stupid, guys. I always knew this was going to happen one day. I just had to sit back and wait for it." Harry began to relax but his eyes darted behind the couch me and Gwen were sitting on. We turned out heads abruptly and noticed, the man himself, Norman Osborn.

"Hi…Dad." Harry struggled to say.

"Son." Norman acknowledged, turning his head to me and Gwen. "Who is this beautiful young lady?" Norman smiled at Gwen, showing his perfect white teeth.

"Oh, thank you, Mister Osborn." Gwen blushed, placing her left hand across her chest.

Norman turned his glaring eyes to me next. "This must be the prodigy himself, Peter Parker." He offered out his hand to me. I was always uncomfortable around Mister Osborn. He seemed to favor me over Harry because of my scientific intellect. I always wondered how me and Harry stayed friends. Harry says it's because he doesn't care if his Dad approves of him. I say it's because Harry needs help with science homework. Tomato, tomahto.

"Uh, yes-yeah, it was great to see you again, Mr. Osborn. If you don't mind, I kind of have to go home. Ben's expecting me…"

"Very well. You're not leaving without a Christmas present, Mr. Parker." He dug deep his suit pocket and pulled out a hundred bucks. Fifty for me, fifty for Gwen. Gwen's was a solid fifty, mine was broken into two twenties and a ten.

"Thanks so much!" Gwen beamed. She was always so polite.

I thanked him as well, smiling politely even though something about him seemed wrong. I took a peek at the money just for shits-and-giggles. My mind exploded and my heart stopped. I stopped breathing for a quick second.

There, on one of the twenty dollar bills, sat the same red mark that the junkie had given the drug-dealer two nights ago. Norman realized something was wrong and questioned me quickly.

"Something the matter…Peter?"

"Uh…no, no. Everything's great…just great." I smiled, trying to hide my shock.

"Good to hear…" he responded. "I have to get back to work now. Nice seeing you both." He turned to walk away, back down the long hallway to his office.

I took another look at the twenty to make sure it was still there. It was. Daring me make a move.

Maybe Harry was right.


	8. Sting

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**STING:**

I burst through the elevator doors, the need for information running ramped through my body. My shoulders bumped into people and my feet knocked some off balance. I was sick of being so polite to people. What do they ever do to me?

"Hey, Peter." Betty welcomed as I neared her desk positioned in front of Jonah's office.

"Uh, hi…" I was still shy around her. Too many attractive woman in my life.

"Seeing Mister Jameson, I assume."

"Yeah."

"Can I see the pictures?"

"Actually" I began, scratching the back of my head. "I don't have pictures. I just need to talk to Jonah."

Betty looked at me surprised for a second and shrugged. "Be quick." She answered, a gentle smile following.

"Thanks."

I opened the door quickly. I wanted to get in and out fast. The hinge snapped as I flung the door open. My head snapped towards Jonah, expecting a verbal lashing.

"Damn door's been broken for a few days now." He huffed, rolling his eyes.

"I never noticed." I lied cautiously.

"What do ya want, Parker?" Smoke poured from his half open mouth; a cigar balanced between his lips.

"Phil…I need to talk to Phil…" I swallowed hard, expecting a lashing.

"Does Ben know?" Jonah asked, suddenly interested in what I had to say.

"I'm not buying."

"Sure." More smoke. "Just checkin' up on a total stranger."

"I-"

"Look, kid. Either you're buying or you're busting." His hand snatched the cigar out of his mouth. "I don't like busters…" His tone became shrill. Jonah liked his cocaine.

"Jonah, I only want to know where you meet him." I sighed, hoping it would lighten the mood.

"Oh, so you're a 'Curios George'. Ya know what they say…" Even more smoke clouded the room. "…'curiosity killed the monkey'."

There was an awkward silence as Jonah searched through his desk.

"Cat…curiosity killed the CAT." I corrected.

Jonah stared at me for a second, about as long as it took me to decide whether to correct him. "You're gonna shut the hell up if you ever want to see this address, kid." He flicked a small piece of paper up into sight.

**xXx**

December 26th, 9:55 PM.

I perched myself atop an alley light. I had my back leaned against the wall, my feet stuck to the light in case I fell. Phil was five minutes late. I was getting worried that Jonah had screwed me over before a shady man in a leather jacket walked briskly through the alley and stashed himself next to a dumpster. I was unsure whether or not this was Phil so I waited it out until a customer came by.

Another shady man entered the alley from the opposite side a mere three minutes later. I moved myself towards the front of the metal pole and waited for them to move into the light. The first man bounced off the brick wall and stopped directly under me. The other man came over just the same and parked himself half a foot from my supposed target. I leaned forward hoping to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Have fun." The one in the leather jacket laughed, reaching for something in his pocket.

Got him.

I whipped out both my arms and snagged Phil's head in webbing. The buyer fell down in shock as I yanked up Phil, his screams muffled by the thick layer of web. I grabbed Phil by the collar and ripped the webbing off his face. Phil shook and his eyes darted from me to the street, hoping for someone to help.

"Hey, Phil." I smiled, hoping it would scare him more.

Phil didn't respond, he nodded his head lightly, beads of sweat gathering at his forehead. My free hand dug into my pocket and pulled out the small vile I got from the druggie a few nights ago.

"You know why I'm here…don't you." I was remaining calm. If I started to yell, Phil might pass out.

"Yea-yeah…" Phil gulped "Oz…it's called Oz…"

"Tell me more."

"The seller-one of the sellers, uh, his name is Sco-scorpion. He's the guy I-I get my…'stuff' from…"

"What's with the name?" I questioned, leaning in on him.

"Some-something to do with the drugs he sells. He-he…laces them. Some shit that…that kills the buyer within a few weeks. Ya know to cut off any leads to him. It's un-untraceable and highly addict-addictive. He sells it at an…um, an extremely high price."

"Where do I find him?"

"Uh, uh, we met to-tonight…at the-uh, next to the-the, um, old Roxxon building." The stuttering was becoming worse and I knew he was on the verge of passing out.

"Thanks." I acknowledged as I wrapped his legs in webbing and hung him from the light post. Roxxon was my next target and with any luck, 'Scorpion' was still there.

**xXx**

I launched myself off the strand of webbing I was holding onto which was latched onto the old Roxxon building. My feet landed quietly along the edge of the building next door. I took a quick look over the edge cursed at myself angrily. No one. I stood up slowly, feeling deprived of my victory. I turned around ready to go home when I heard a quiet creaking of metal from the alley. I ran over, a nervous smile forming on my face. My eyes set fixed on a man running out of a hidden door on the side of the building. it was painted the exact same color as the building and fit in perfectly during the night.

"Smart little bastards, aint ya." I smiled, feeling very lucky. I reached over the edge as I far as I could and pressed my fingertips against the brick wall. Slowly, I pulled myself over and crept down the wall, making sure to avoid the sight of the occasional pedestrian and dirty low-life. Eventually, I reached the hidden door and pressed my ear against it. The conversation between two or three men echoed back to me.

"Here goes nothing…" I sighed, reluctantly. I knocked on the door quietly, making it sound like I wanted to keep it a secret. The conversation stopped and I slid backwards, into the darkness above the door. A built man in his mid-twenties slowly opened the door, armed with a .44 revolver.

"Hello? Hmm…Wei-" He commented before I dropped from the wall, pinning him to the ground. I cracked his head against the pavement to knock him out. The cool, crisp air filling my lungs as I took a long breath felt good as a slight flutter of snow began to come down. I checked the guy to see if he was, in fact, 'Scorpion.' I didn't find anything that proved it.

"Crap." I sneered, realizing that means 'Scorpion' either wasn't here or he was one of the two guys inside.

"Whe-where'd Ox go?" one of the men inside asked, concerned. .

"How the hell would I know?" the other one yelled, in a high-pitched voice.

"Check it out." the first man ordered, angrily. "And you better not tell me it's the Spider-man." Long pause. "Hate that guy."

"Flattered." I commented to myself as I gained some distance from the door.

It flung open again, this time a tall, thin man carrying a simple .45 colt stepped out wearing a thick jacket. The second the door closed I whipped out my hand, my middle two fingers pressed against my palm sending my webbing towards the thugs skull. It made contact with his temple and engulfed the rest of his head in a nano-second, his screams hidden behind my man-made webbing. His body lunged fast as I used all my strength to pull him towards me. His light frame floated through the air before being caught by my hands and pinned up against the wall. He was rendered unconscious immediately by the lack of air.

"Now, are YOU 'Scorpion'?" I asked nobody, ripping the web off his face.

"Montana…you OK?" the last remaining man called from inside.

"Nope, guess not…"

The last guy coughed a few times and cursed to himself. A rather loud, clanking sound emitted from the room. I positioned myself ready for one last takedown.

The door burst open, the lackey swinging a M4 around with an equipped flashlight. He spotted me instantly.

"Holy shit!" I shrieked.

"Gotcha!" he laughed as he fired away.

I rolled out of the way; towards the brick wall again. The bullets hit various parts of the pavement leading towards me. I ran across the wall, the bullets still following as the maniac laughed. His shots were catching up and I leapt across the alley, landing feet first on the old Roxxon building. I knew the gun would eventually run out of ammo. Until then I would just have to stay out of the way. The gun-toting freak stopped for a second to find me. My chance.

I jumped towards him, arms outstretched. He turned around fast, the gun acting as a club. The barrel whacked me across the side of the head and sent me reveling to the ground. The hit disoriented me for a second as I propped myself up on my right arm, my left arm webbing the front of the gun. The gun clicked a few times as the thug tried firing more shots.

"You have got to be freaking' kidding me…" he gasped. His eyes fixated on me as I brushed myself off, hands forming to fists. "What the hell are you?"

He made a mad dash for the street where a few drunk wanderers had formed a crowd. They departed as he ran towards them. He didn't get far as I tied his feet together in my webbing. His hands clawed at nothing while I dragged him towards me across the alley way floor. I picked him up by the neck and pushed him against the wall.

"Scorpion…I presume."

"Now you're a psychic?" Scorpion joked.

"Cut the crap." I pulled the Oz formula from my pocket and dangled it in front of his face. "What do you know about this?"

Scorpion's eyes widened at the sight of it. "Get that shit away from me!" Something in his voice showed real fear. What was I missing? "Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"

"Yeah…I do. Which is why I need answers."

"No way, dude!" he laughed. "I would like to make it to forty."

"Ok…" I sighed as I took the cork top off the vile. "Open up."

"What…? Dude, no, you're crazy!" he stuttered as I forced his head back. "What are you gonna do after it takes affect?" His voice was becoming shaky. I was hitting a nerve.

"I gotta plenty of guns to choose from."

"Uh…uh, shit. I'll talk!" he breathed deeply. "This guy…never gave a name…he-he had a weird head. It was…square. Wore a nice suit. That's all I know…I swear." I put the cork back on the vile and dropped Scorpion to the ground.

Hammerhead.

"Thanks" I acknowledged, baring my teeth. Hammerhead was hired to kill Octavius and now to sell the Oz drug to all of New York. Some sick bastard was getting a few broken bones Spider-man style. Scorpion began to crawl away silently. Too bad I was looking right at him. His jaw popped as I kicked him in the face with my heel. I pocketed the Oz and sent my webbing high into the air sticking the top of the old Roxxon building.

Blaring sirens and bright lights stopped me. I was stunned for a few seconds. My first real encounter with the police. That's when I realized that I was illegal.

"Freeze!" a woman yelled. My mind flashed back to the night of Aunt May and Uncle Ben's murder.

Murder.

"Hands in the air!" she continued. I did as I was told, the lights from the police cruiser were too bright to escape quickly from. A familiar face emerged from the driver seat of the car. Captain George Stacy.

"DeWolfe…" he began, putting his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off.

"Down on you're knees." she barked, her eyes trained on me.

"DeWolfe!"

"Now!"

"Lieutenant!" he shouted, causing DeWolfe's head to snap towards him. "Put the God damned gun down…" No response. "…now!"

"Sonofabitch."she swore quickly, holstering her gun. "Why?"

"He's cleaning up more of this city than you or me can in our whole life. He's-"

"He's a vigilante, George! These freaks should be strung up by their eyeballs and beat with their own limbs." she interrupted.

"Harsh." I commented, hands still raised.

She ignored me.

"What do you have against him, Jean?" Stacy asked intently. He was a good foot taller than her, and it made the scene look intimidating rather than sincere.

"A man in a mask is nothing to worship, but something to fear." she began, looking away. "This city worships people like this. They feel safe, contained…clean. Then one day, when they get shat on by their false 'Gods' they will fall deeper than before, and this city will drown in its own filth." she turned her attention back to Stacy. "I don't plan on picking up the pieces…neither should you."

Captain Stacy was silent as was I.

"I'll be in the car…" she whispered as she walked away towards the neon lights.

Captain Stacy sighed and pulled off his cap to pull back his neatly kept hair. He darted his eyes toward my direction and found, to his surprise, I was no longer there. I had escaped to the roof of the old Roxxon building during the fiasco.

"Sly bastard…" he smiled as he put his hat back on and walked towards the car.

The snow was getting worse now, blanketing the city in a bright gleam of white. The police car pulled away from the building and I watched it drive away. Was Spider-man someone to fear? Or was it all in DeWolfe's head?

I stood up slowly, shivering for the first time that night and swung away with mixed feelings.

Either way, Spider-man wasn't going way until the piece of shit behind the Oz was brought down.


	9. The Clinic

_FINALLY! I know it took some time to put this one out and it isn't that long but I've been very busy…and very lazy. _

_The other chapters should come more frequently, I promise. _

_Enjoy!_

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**THE CLINIC:**

December 27th, 10:47 AM

Doctor Otto Octavius; a broken and beaten man. His limp carcass wrapped up in the neon white sheets. A dozen tubes connected him to a handful of machines. In some weird way he was part machine.

But he was alive.

I had just arrived a minute ago. Ben had told me that Otto had lived and was being kept in Doctor Phineas Mason's clinic. Jonah wanted me to get pictures. I brought my camera, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to make Otto a trophy patient. The sight of him on the other side of the viewing glass was heart-wrenching. My memories relied on Otto being a slightly over weight, strong being. Now? He was barely a shell of himself; thin, weak and helpless.

"Peter?" a voice questioned to my left.

Carolyn Trainer.

"Wow…Carolyn." I stuttered, amazed. "Haven't seen you in weeks."

"Family stuff…" she shrugged. "Did you just get here?"

"Yeah. Did you?"

"Got some coffee." she held up the styrofoam cup emitting steam into the vivid hallway.

We turned our attention to Octavius again. The occasional sip from Carolyn and the boom from the clinic's speakers were the only distractions from our concentrated stare.

"It's sickening isn't it…" she stated, her eyes still trained on Otto. "He'll never be the same again…"

My brain jumped. "What? Why? What happened?"

"They didn't tell you?" her widened eyes focusing on me.

"No..."

Sip of coffee.

"His legs and arms are permanently paralyzed…the last two bullets virtually destroyed his spine." she sighed heavy, gritting her teeth. "His organs and head are the only functioning parts of his body. Hell, not even his brain is right."

"Is…is that why we can't go in?" I whispered.

She nodded lightly. "The son of a bitch who did this should be killed, slow and painfully." Her temper was rising.

"Carolyn…" I started, hoping to calm her down.

"Don't 'Carolyn' me!" she barked back, throwing her coffee on the floor. I backed off. "He was one of the world's greatest minds, and one person sends it all crumbling down. Do you have ANY idea how close we were to making a successful fusion reactor? We were going to put an end to the world's energy crisis forever…"

"I know how hard this is…" I reasoned, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me, you filth." she hissed. She had turned into a completely different person within seconds. The coffee she had thrown down a few seconds ago traced her footsteps as she huffed away towards the entrance.

I looked back at Octavius, my head hung low.

"Sorry, Doc." I apologized to a virtually nonexistent listener.

**xXx**

I walked back to the entrance of the clinic, my hands shoved deep into my pockets and my head hung low. I felt low. Lower than usual; that's saying something. Two doctors approached from my back, talking about a patient.

"Hey, did you hear about the old coot in room nineteen?" the older one asked.

"No. What about him?" the younger one responded, excitement present.

"He's some depressed weirdo who lived in an apartment in Harlem. Decides life isn't worth living and jumps from 20 stories, head first."

"Shit."

"Barely lived. We call him 'The Vulture'" Pause for a laugh. "Old guy who tries to fly…" he explained.

"Oh!" the younger one laughed.

I smiled at the story even if it wasn't any of my business. I continued for the entrance but was stopped short by the same familiar face from the other night. Norman Osborn.

"Peter, my dear boy, how are you?" he smiled with a grin that looked more sincere than it felt.

"Oh…uh, hi…" I shrugged, eyeing the door.

"What brings you here?" He completely missed my hint.

"Uhh…my friend…mentor, actually. Doctor Otto Octavius."

"Really? What a coincidence. Otto's a close friend of mine. Just visiting him."

"Oh, well, interesting…Look, I-"

Norman cut me short. "Please, Peter. If you need to go, just say so. No need to beat around the bush." Another smile and a pat on the back to boot. He walked off, hands in his suit pockets.

"Creep…" I whispered to myself as I left the clinic, mimicking his posture.

**xXx**

_"Otto's a close friend of mine."_

"Peter?"

_"Otto's a close friend of mine."_

"Peter!"

"Huh? Wha-" I gasped, waking out of my trance.

"I don't know. You tell me…"

I was in Central Park with Gwen. I didn't even remember getting there.

"Uhh, I-I don't know." I shook my head, waking myself up a little more.

"So…" Gwen sighed, her warm breath creating mist as it floated through the air. "How's the Bugle?" There's a topic I hadn't thought about in a while.

"It..."

Cocaine.

"…smells nice, and…"

Betty.

"…has a nice view." I looked at Gwen nodding lightly. "Yeah…"

"I saw Mr. Osborn today…" Gwen stated, changing the topic. "He was walking past my building today."

"Weird, isn't he."

"Shit…" she laughed.

"I saw him too; in Dr. Mason's clinic. We talked for a little…"

"Nice talk?"

"No."

"Man," Gwen whispered. "Sucks to be Harry."

We laughed for a little. Both at Harry and with him, in spirit.

**xXx**

I approached the building stiffly. So stiffly that I hadn't noticed the moving van until I was at the door to the building. There were two vans, each an egg white color with an orange pin-stripe on the side. The back door to each was flung wide open, and four men, each one dressed in thick green jackets and tan pants carried boxes from the van's to the building. Most of the furniture was victorian age except for one bedroom set which was more modern and red than the rest.

I shrugged it off and entered the building. The change in heat caused a thick wave of wind to whip me in the face, blowing my damp, matted hair upwards. I stopped, dead in my tracks as I noticed that the elevator had a big "Out of Order" sign hung from it.

"Crap." I sighed as I turned toward the stairs. At least the apartment was only on the fifth floor.

**xXx**

I huffed as I pulled myself up to the fifth floor. I leaned my hands on my knees and took a few deep breaths. Spider-man climbed buildings, not stairs. I continued towards the apartment, number eight. I counted each room as I made my way down the hall.

1…2…3…4…5…6…

My monotonous counting was cut short when I caught the shape of a person emerging from apartment number seven out of the corner of my eye.

"Woah!" I gasped as I stopped in my tracks.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she apologized as she looked up at me.

In front of me stood a teenage girl with an hour glass body and wavy red hair. She had very faint freckles along the top of her checks and bridge of her nose. Her lips were thick and covered in a medium shade of red. She wore a long sleeve black t-shirt with tight jeans and light brown 'UGG' brand boots. A thick, fur jacket that matched her boots was slung over her body as her right arm was propped up towards her face, holding her hair back.

"You're…you're the ones moving in." I noted pointing a limp finger towards her direction.

"So we have a genius in the building I see."

"I like to think so…"

"Well, If you don't mind, I need to get the rest of my bedroom upstairs before someone steals it. You'd be surprised at the amount of creeps I've already seen in this city." She set down her purse and began to put on her coat.

I smiled lightly at the idea that I had no idea of the creeps in this city. "Hey, I'll help you with your bedroom stuff. Along the way, maybe we could probably introduce ourselves?"

She stood up, her eyes not leaving mine. "Yeah. Sure…sounds great." She extended her arm our in front of me "Mary Jane Watson. And you are…?"

My hand connected with hers. "Peter Parker. May I help you with your bags?"

"You sure can" she smiled as I showed her down the stairs.

**xXx**

I found myself talking about nothing but science all the way down the stairs. I talked about science when I was nervous. I didn't feel nervous and I had no real reason to be nervous. We reached the ground floor and I was still talking about science. She hadn't gotten a word in and I could tell she was bored.

"So that's why a pos-" she held a box out in my direction, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Huh? Oh…I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm talking about school." I apologized sheepishly. "You must think I'm one of those kids that spends all day locked in his room trying to find the next big thing for a Noble Science prize or something." I grabbed the box with box hands and was surprised at how light it was.

"Ah, doesn't matter. You taught me more in 5 minutes than my science teacher did in all of 9th grade." She picked up a box for herself and started for the stairs again.

"Where are you from again?" I asked, trying to stay away from science.

"Maryland. Why?"

"Just trying not to become Albert Einstein."

She laughed sweetly and made her way up the stairs. Her laugh reminded me of Gwen's.

**xXx**

We stopped in front of her door, both of us out of breath and set down the boxes.

"Listen, Peter. I'm having a party Saturday night. A bunch of my friends from Maryland are coming up to say good-bye. You should come, bring a few friends."

Then it hit me like a train.

"I have a girlfriend…" I blurted out. My mouth shut instantly, and my throat closed. "Why the hell did I say that?" I whispered to myself.

"Oh, so…you think I'm threatening her position?" She looked as confused as I was.

"No! I…uh, I didn't…I don't know…" I sat down against the wall, trying to avoid eye contact.

She sat down next to me. We stared across the hall silently for what seemed like an eternity.

"MARY JANE?" a scruff voice called out from inside her apartment. "Where the hell are you, girl?"

"Right here, Dad." She stood up whipping the dust off her pants and picking her purse up again. She turned and looked at me. "I hope you come to the party…bring your girlfriend. Should be nice to meet the person I'm trying to replace." She was joking, it was obvious but I couldn't help but feel like there was some truth to the matter. I stood up and made my way home. Ben was inside to greet me.

"Hey, Pete. Meet the new neighbors?" He was watching his favorite show on TV, 60 Minutes.

I stopped walking towards my room and looked at Ben. "Yeah…I did."

"Seem like nice people?" he asked dumbly concentrating more on the show.

"Yeah, they do."

"Good…good." He had become completely involved in the show.

I continued towards my bedroom and began to think if I really wanted to go to the party. One thing was certain, I wasn't going without Gwen. I'd call her about it tomorrow.

**xXx**


	10. Burn

SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

**BURN:**

Friday, 9:12 AM

"Welcome back, class. I hope your holiday break was enjoyable, but like Vegas, 'What happens during your holiday break STAYS during your holiday break.'" Mr. Trainer explained, pacing the classroom back and forth. "Now…" he sat at his desk, shuffling papers around "…did anyone do anything science based during their break?"

The room went silence. Flash snickered, quite loudly as if he was trying to draw attention. Mr. Trainer stared at him.

"What?" Flash gasped, eyes widening. Mr. Trainer shook his head and back at the rest of the room.

"Of course not." he sighed. "Science is my job. Why would any of you be allowed to do it on your own time?"

I was tempted to tell him about my conversation with MJ but decided it was for the better if I didn't. Especially if Gwen was in the room and I hadn't told her about it yet.

"For a quick fresh-up, and because, frankly, I have a lot on my mind; here is a worksheet to quick start your brains." He passed out the work to everybody and sat back down. Every once in a while he would call someone on his cell with no luck.

**xXx**

I finished the worksheet in ten minutes flat. The rest of the class was five or ten minutes behind. Mr. Trainer never looked up. He damn near forgot we exist. About half way through the period he received a call on his cell. His eyes lit up but his mouth stayed still. It was like a mix of fear and excitement. He left the classroom immediately and told us to stay seated until the bell rang. Everyone in class, including me, saw the loop hole in this and took the time to switch to the seats WE wanted and talk as much as we wanted. I sat next to Gwen, with Flash across the room; talking to his "buddies." Harry was no where to be found. I hadn't heard from him in a few days either and I was starting to get worried.

"Hey" I started. "Do you have any idea what's up with Mr. Trainer?"

"No. Why?" She had a confused look spread across her face, she obviously wasn't paying much attention.

"Oh, I dunno." I smiled, sarcastically, "Just the fact that he didn't give a shit about class the entire time."

"Oh, that. Well…yeah." She wasn't paying much attention. Something else was on her mind, but I couldn't quite figure it out. "Look, Pete…I shouldn't be telling you this." Her voice faded into a whisper. I leaned in close trying to hear what she was saying. "His daughter disappeared."

"Shit. Carolyn? What happened?" My mind was blown to smithereens. I had just seen her the day before. "Wait. How do you know?"

"Well, being the Police captains daughter, you hear more than you should. And no one really knows. She just up and left…poof!" She raised her arms into the air on the word 'poof'

"Oh my God…" My head was spinning. "Why-" My sentence was cut short by a wet wad of paper launching across the room towards my head. My spider-sense told me about the projectile and I moved swiftly to the left, letting the paper hit the chair behind me and seep to the floor. I snapped my head back and noticed Flash with a straw in his hand, laughing.

My emotions got the best of me. The mix of pain and misunderstanding from Carolyn's disappearance and the confusion and anger from Flash's sudden break in trust we had created at Kong's party sent me out of control. I stood up slowly, Gwen trying to hold me back.

"Ooooooh shit, Flash! Parker's walking over." Greg, one of Flash's clowns, pointed out.

I picked up speed as I walked towards Flash, each pace increasing my temper. I stopped right in front of him, my head titled slightly upwards to see Flash's face. The rest of the classroom was getting excited. A few kids began to chant "Fight!" and a circle of students formed around us.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Flash?" I hissed. "What happened to our truce?"

"Truce? Truce?" He laughed. "That was no truce. I was giving up because I was drunk and sick and didn't feel like whipping your ass. You thought that was a truce?" He cackled like a maniac, most of the students in the class following.

I threw my fist straight into his mouth, his laugh cutting off and the class going silent. I let another one connect with his ribs and an elbow to the jaw. Flash fell to the floor, blood seeping from his mouth, and began to get up. I went over to him ready to beat on him a few more times before Greg threw a punch to the back of my head. I ducked low to avoid the punch and sent a mule kick to his chest. He launched backwards into the mob of students, out like a light. Kong grabbed my shoulder to stop me. By this point Flash had gained his bearing and was ready to kick the crap out of me.

"Both of you calm down!" Kong boomed.

"Kong, I like you." I sighed. "Let go of me before I wipe the floor with your ass, too."

We stared at each other for a few seconds before he let go of my shoulder and turned towards Flash. "You're so screwed, dude." I smiled at the back-up.

Flash charged me, head on and knocked my shoulder with an out of control jab. I rammed his chest with my shoulder, trying to create space. Before he could move again I threw five quick punches to his face to finish him off. Flash let out a quiet, gurgling noise as he slid to the floor. Blood spewing from his nose and mouth. I shook my fist gently trying to remove the pain from my knuckles. Greg was gaining consciousness behind me which was a good thing. I was afraid I had killed him with that kick.

Gwen came up behind me. "Peter? What…What the hell?" She was amazed at what had just gone down. To be honest, I was too.

Some of the kids in the crowd began to cheer. A few others went over to check on Flash.

"Is he OK?" I stammered, trying to look innocent. In reality, I didn't give a shit.

"I think so…" a young girl named Mary answered very quietly.

The bell rang as I was running my hand through my hair. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Flash was sure to wake up soon and I wasn't seeing him being OK with what just happened.

**xXx**

Friday, 7:47 PM

I sat atop the 'MetLife' building, my back leaned against the air conditioning unit. My cell phone was pressed up against my masked face, each ring echoing through my head. A group of pigeons sailed past my view and the honk of a horn sounded in the distance.

After about three rings, Gwen picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gwen. It's Pete." A blast of cold wind sent shivers down my spine making the sentence sound a little supernatural.

"Hey. What's up?" she was laughing slightly, most likely at the awkward introduction I gave.

"Uh, listen. There's this new girl in my apartment building. Here name is Mary Jane. She just moved here from Maryland. She invited me to a party and-"

"And you want my permission to go. I never pictured you as a party-kinda-guy, Peter." Gwen interrupted.

"No! Well, sorta. She invited me and said I could bring whoever I like." There was a quick pause between us for a second. "I'm not going without you…" I added gently.

"Well, if you put it THAT way…" she laughed. "Sure. Could be fun."

An explosion rippled through the air far behind me.

"Holy crap!" I gasped as I leapt up to my feet, turning around.

"What? What's wrong?" she sputtered, alertly.

"Uh…I…just realized I have a crap-load of Calculus homework to do…I gotta go. See ya!" My brain was moving at a million miles an hour.

"Yeah, uh, ok. See-" I hung up the phone abruptly and ran toward the site of the explosion. Something I would definitely have to explain tomorrow.

I launched myself across the chasm in-between the 'MetLife' and the building next to it. To keep my momentum I tumbled into a roll as I hit the roof of the building and continued moving. I dove off the edge of the building and swung across the street on a thin web-line. As I neared the smoke I realized it was coming from the 'Bank of New York.' Simple enough. Probably just some crooks with explosives.

**xXx**

I perched atop the bank looking for some sign of the intruders. The cops probably weren't far behind, but if they had explosives, I was going to have to take them on myself. I slowly climbed my way down the side wall and peered around the corner. The hole in the wall was huge. Big enough for a tank. Suddenly, I heard the rev of an engine and a grey mini-van with darkened windows sped out of the hole in the wall and down the road. I latched a thread of webbing onto it and was yanked from the wall. I managed to work my way up my webbing and onto the van. If it wasn't for my spider-powers I would have been thrown off the van long ago. The driver was going at least seventy-five, dodging every car, swerving around every corner. It was moving too fast to take out the wheels or axles. I would have to wait for the van to stop.

The van took a sharp turn towards the docks and headed straight for one of the warehouses. I didn't think he was crazy enough to drive right through it and so I stayed on the roof of the van. He showed no signs of slowing as we neared the door to the warehouse.

We were only fifty feet away and closing in fast.

Forty.

Thirty.

Twenty.

Ten.

I leapt from the van and through the front window of the warehouse. The glass was new and breaking through it was more than difficult. The pain of the glass distracted me and I crash-landed into a large group of empty wooden boxes.

"Agh…crap." I sneered as I slowly pulled myself to me feet. I looked to my right, towards the door of the warehouse and noticed half the van had driven through. The door opened and the driver slid himself out of the seat unharmed.

"Nice fall." he snorted.

The driver wasn't the definition of average looking. He was wearing hiking boots and brown cargo pants. His shirt was replaced with a layer of tattoos all along his arms and body. His forearms were encased in metal with a handle bar jetting out, each one placed directly underneath the palm of his hand. Two yellow, thin tubes followed from his arm braces to his back. His head was bald and his eyes were hidden beneath a pair of black sunglasses.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" I laughed. "You look like something found in a happy meal!" I fell on the floor laughing, clutching my stomach.

I heard the charge of electricity, sparks began to shoot across the room. "You should be on freakin' Comedy Central'!" he barked as he threw out his arms, blue waves of energy heading towards my direction.

"Ah, crap." I sighed. The blast hit me, sending me flying through the air and into the wall. "OK, so you're a little dangerous for a happy meal." I quipped as I got back to my feet.

"Good to hear." He threw out his arms again letting his shock waves dart across the warehouse.

I leapt over the attack and connected two web-lines to his chest. Using them as zip-lines, I lunged forward planting my feet on his chest. I back-flipped away sending his body into the ground with all my might.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to play with…ew!" As he was getting up I noticed the tubes from his gauntlets connected right into his back. "Dude! That's freaking gross!"

"You don't mock the Shocker." he laughed.

"What? 'The Shocker'?" He sent another attack my way, I leapt to the side, landing on another crate. "You need a new agent. That name just…doesn't fit."

He used one arm to attack me on the crates. He used the other arm to hit me in the air as I was dodging the first shock wave. I was rocketed onto the catwalks above. I noticed that his attacks were singeing my costume. I used my webbing to swing across the warehouse towards him. His next attack hit the webbing I was holding onto and I came tumbling down back to Earth. I webbed both his arms together quickly to avoid getting hit while I was down. As he was burning the webbing off with this "weapons", I sent a quick roundhouse kick to his temple knocking him into the far wall. He suddenly went into a fit of shaking and I began to wonder if it was an act.

"There's no need to cry." I joked as I carefully walked over to him. He slowly got back up.

"No…no! Not…crap! Need more….need…more." he muttered to himself, limping back towards the van.

"Whoa! You're not going anywhere, 'Shocker'!" I webbed his feet together as he neared the van. His face smacked into the van and it the floor. I walked over slowly assuming he had been knocked out.

"No…no more. You won't win!" he screamed as he let out a barrage of pulsating waves. I was too shocked to move and was hit by five of them. I rolled along the ground and felt a familiar, warm feeling envelope my arm. I sat up and noticed I was on fire. I smacked it a few times but realized I was only spreading it.

I looked over at Shocker quickly and noticed he was still getting up. I connected web-line to his chest and dove out the window behind me, into the water. The fire died fast, but not before eating up most of my costume. Shocker fell into the water after me. I was hoping he would use his gauntlets and fry himself after I escaped, but he was too smart. He grabbed me by the neck and let out two quick punches into my nose. I retaliated with a kick to his stomach and a right hook to his ribs. Shockers grip loosened and I used my strength to grab his right arm-brace and crush it.

Shocker screamed in both pain and anger. The metal shards dug into his skin and he was one weapon short.

"You asswipe!" he yelled as he grabbed me by the neck and tried drowning me. He caught me out of breath and I found myself a victim of my own trap. I kicked and punched his body hoping to get him to let go but breaking his weapon, and possibly his right arm, only made him angrier. On a whim, I reached around his back and ripped out one of the tubes. Liquid gushed from the wound, but it wasn't just blood. It was a green and red mixture which gushed out uncontrollably and then suddenly stopped.

Shocker fainted, face first in the water. I flipped him up on his back so that he wouldn't drown and examined his wound. The tube was connected directly into his nervous system which was wired up to his head.

Shocker wasn't natural. Shocker was made.

**xXx**

After pulling myself up from the water, along with Shocker's limp body, I inspected the van. My left arm was burnt and numb from the fire and my throat hurt from being strangled. Using my right arm, I ripped open the back of the van and noticed it was empty.

Shocker was a distraction. The real thief's had gotten away long before.

"Piece of shit!" I muttered as I kicked Shocker's body and called the police.

I looked down at my costume as the phone rang. The sweatshirt and under-armor on my left side was completely gone, and the left leg of my cargo pants was almost burnt right through.

Guess this was a good reason to improve my costume. I was starting to look like a rent-a-hero.


	11. A New Look

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**A NEW LOOK:**

Slowly I put the final stitch into the glove. I held it up in front of me, my arms fully outstretched to encompass all aspects of it. I smiled pleasantly as I noticed I had correctly lined up each detail and design. This suit had far more life to it than my previous look, and although it ate away at most of my money to make, it made me look like a respectable hero. It was constructed of a new spandex-like material I found at the local sports store called "Deflexion." It was spandex on the outside with a reflective inside which kept heat in. It would come in use mostly for those cold rainy nights or those chilling snow-covered evenings. The suit had a red "v-shape" on the body, the point starting right above the crotch, coming up to the shoulders and neck, and circling around to cover my upper back. The gloves and boots came halfway up my arms and legs respectively sporting the same blood red color as my body-piece. The parts that weren't red were pure black, and the red parts of my suit featured a black web design with the web emanating from the center of my chest and spreading out. On top of the center of the webbing was a pitch-black spider, about half the size of my head. Another spider covered most of my back with its "tick-like" appearance. My mask had its own web design which started at the bridge of my nose and spread outwards. The eye pieces were the same shape as my past ones, but they were black as opposed to white. I had also hand-created a small plastic belt which would hold most notes and web-cartridges. It was far less "bulgy" than any belts I could find and, like my web-shooters, was barely noticeable under my costume.

My phone began to vibrate on the nightstand beside my bed. Feeling lazy, I stretched my whole body out to reach it and just barely grabbed it. It was a calendar alert.

"Daily Bugle 12:00" the digital text read.

**xXx**

Daily Bugle, 12:03 PM.

As opposed to going to the top floor of the Bugle to have a 'pleasant' conversation with Jonah, I stopped by the fifth. This was the editor and journalists floor. The boss of this level was Robbie Robertson, Editor-in-Chief of the Bugle; the position below Jonah. Ben barely introduced me a few weeks ago. He seemed too calm to be on Jonah's good side, but whatever works, works. His son Randy is a football player at Midtown High. Despite the obvious joke with his name, he's one of Flash's closer friends, but not quite an asshole. Almost like another Kong. I never really talked to him though. I suppose his father would have been a good topic to start a conversation with, but after the fight with Flash, I'd rather not risk it. My reason at the Bugle had changed along with the floor number. Instead of giving more photographs to Jameson, I was digging through the archives looking for some sort of clue as to who this Shocker guy was and if he had anything to do with the Oz.

As I stepped out of the elevator, the smell hit me. Not one of cigars and coffee like the top floor, but of clean windows and polished wood. The floor plan was identical to the top floor with the exception of new computers and a different wall color. I stepped hesitantly out of the elevator, not sure if I was allowed there. I spotted an empty computer on the far side of the room under a large white sign which read 'Archives.' I made my way over to the computer, keeping my head low, when a firm hand took hold of my shoulder.

"Hang on, young man." the slightly high-pitched voice demanded. I turned around to a pale white man wearing a cheap suit and wavy blonde hair. "Visitors aren't allowed here."

"Oh, I'm not a visitor. I'm-" A familiar figure approached the man and stopped my explanation.

"Kingsley, it's cool. Get back to work." the figure smiled.

Robbie. He had a strong posture with casual work clothes.

"Yes, sir." Kingsley sighed, walking past me and back to his desk.

"You have to excuse him; he gets a little worked up sometimes." Robbie outstretched his arm for a handshake and I acknowledged it. "Peter…right?" he asked mid-handshake.

"Yeah."

"Well, Peter, what can I do for you? Ben's home I hope you realize…"

"No, I know that. I'm doing a paper for Global and I was wondering if I could use the archives?" I lied, making it seem as believable as I could.

"I think Randy's doing that paper…"

No he isn't.

He led me over to the computer and pulled up a web-browser like application.

"All you have to do is type in whatever name you want…" he stopped mid-sentence and typed 'Kingpin' in the search bar. "…and you have unlimited access to all printed articles about the subject."

"Thanks, Mr. Robertson."

"Ah, please. Call me Robbie. If you need any help, just come get me in my office." He patted my back and was off towards his office.

I sat down in the worn, leather chair and lightly placed my hands on the keyboard. One word came to mind instantly. 'S-H-O-C-K-E-R' my fingers tapped out rhythmically. Three results came back.

"Local lottery winner explains how winning the lottery is 'such a shocker'"

No.

"'Shocker' arrested by police after having a seizure mid-fight"

Maybe.

I clicked on the headline and the page switched to a digital newspaper article. The article explained how police arrested wanted gang leader Herman Shultz after breaking into a fit of seizures mid-heist one night. He nicknamed himself Shocker due to his epileptic nature. Not quite what I was looking for but it was a start. I hit the 'Back' button on the top right of the page and the previous page loaded back up.

"'Shocker' bailed out of jail by unidentified family member"

This article described how an unnamed family member bailed out Shocker for one hundred and twelve-thousand dollars. Would explain how he got free.

There were no other search results to examine or key-words to input, so I cleared the screen and headed home. Bank criminal turned super villain isn't a normal occurrence, and considering the unnatural aspects of 'Shocker's' body; it didn't happen overnight.

**xXx**

Home, 6:30 PM.

_"Hey, it's Harry. Leave a message and I'll get back to you whenever I can. K, thanks, bye." _Harry's voice mail echoed.

"Hey, it's Pete." I started, unsure of what to say. My entire 'speech' was riding on Harry picking up. "Haven't heard from you in a while. Was kinda hoping we could talk. Call me when you get this, thanks." I hung up, unsatisfied with how that unfolded. I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My legs extended as I yawned, my foot kicking the chest by my bed. I sat up to see that it had fallen over, my new Spider-man costume spilling out and onto the floor. I studied it for a few seconds and pulled out my phone again.

6:31 PM.

Part didn't start for another two and a half hours. Plenty of time to kick some ass.

**xXx**

"Oh, shit!" one yelled.

"Get the hell out of here! Go, go, go!" the other shouted.

My feet collided with the back of the one leading the two person line, knocking him onto the sidewalk. I continued my momentum and back-flipped my way into the air. Half-way through my flip I shot out two little spicks off web. Each one connecting with the other man's face as he ran over his partner. He grunted in frustration as he dropped the duffle-bag of money, the crisp bills launching up into the air. I landed swiftly on the pavement, my back turned towards the crooks. The man I kicked in the back was on his feet and racing for the bag of money. I launched into the air and landed cleanly on the lamp-post above the money. With both hands, I wrapped up his feet in webbing and dragged him into the air, tying the other end of webbing to the lamp-post. The man was left suspended twelve feet in the air, swinging and yelling. My head began to itch and I knew it was my spider-sense. I dropped off the light-post as the crack of a gun echoed through the air and a bullet glided above me. The crook pressed the trigger again, the bullet hitting the street and ricocheting into the sky. He fired another shot, this one digging itself into the side of the building. I hadn't moved. The bone-freezing air mixed with the man's fear caused him to fire wildly.

"It's too friggin' cold for this!" he pouted, throwing the .45 to the ground and taking off in the opposite direction. He cornered the building sharp and went behind the grocery store him and his friend had just robbed. I scaled the building and ran across the roof towards the alley on the other side. The crook was going to have to pass it. I hid in the darkness, perched along the wall, my chest grazing the brick finish. I heard panting coming from the entrance to the alleyway as the crook ran past it. I stopped him in his tracks with a web-line to his back and pulled him up to my level. My hand caught him by the shirt collar before gravity took him away and I stared into his eyes.

"You can keep the money on one condition." I explained to my prey.

"Wha-what?" he stuttered, eyes as wide as could be.

I leaned in on him, my nose an inch from his. His sweat was glistening under the night moon and his body trembled from the cold.

"You go to jail."

He stared dumbfounded at me. "But…wouldn't that…NOT give me the money…?"

"Wow. Maybe instead of stealing a few hundred dollars, you should have stolen a common sense." I webbed him to the building with a heavy layer of fluid. "Most people have one, you probably could have pick-pocketed it."

**xXx**

I came back to the duffle bag immediately after I dealt with the runner. The other guy had passed out from hanging upside down too long. I packed all the money back into the bag and attached it to the wall next to the lamp-post. I pulled out a small post-it from my belt and a sharpie from the grocery store.

With my neatest hand-writing I wrote a note to the police. "Courtesy, Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" and stuck it to the duffle-bag. It's nice to have some recognition as a hero, even if the correct term is vigilante. I retreated to the fire-escape on the apartment building across the street to grab my cell-phone and camera. The camera had captured eleven shots. About nine of them were usable, the rest either didn't come out right or just weren't suited for the Daily Bugle. I resorted to my phone for the time.

8:46 PM.

Just enough time to get home for MJ's party.

I perched myself along the fencing off the fire escape, smiling like an idiot. I was more than pleased at the way the night had gone. I had stopped seven crimes and taken thirty good pictures. Best night I've had in a while.

I was supposed to meet Gwen at the door to my apartment building. Figured I would sneak into my bedroom through the window and take the stairs down to the street.

I should have been accidentally bitten by a genetically-altered spider long ago.


	12. This One's on Me

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**THIS ONE'S ON ME:**

The window began to creak as I cautiously slid it upwards. Ben was in the house and it would be for the best if he didn't find Spider-man sneaking through my window. I managed to push my body through the half open window to my room and step silently onto my bed. For fear of attracting too much attention I left the window open until I was done getting dressed. I peeled off my mask, my sweat-soaked hair matted to my head. The costume was warm; that was for sure.

**xXx**

I zipped my navy blue sweatshirt only half way and placed the glove to my costume in the chest beside my bed. I checked the chest for all the parts to my suit and straightened up the room. I began to leave when I stopped myself halfway to the door.

My sweatshirt sleeves were rolled up and my web-shooters were exposed.

Keeping a secret identity was more difficult than I expected. I returned to the chest and dropped my web-shooters in dumbly, feeling like an idiot for forgetting they were still on my wrists. I had been wearing them so long they began to feel like a second skin, as well as my costume.

I swung open the door to my room and entered the warmly lit kitchen. I picked my keys off the counter and headed for the front door when the rhythmic sound of passing air caught my attention. Ben had fallen asleep on the couch with an empty cup of coffee, notepad and pen. A burnt out stub of a cigarette lay in the ash tray on the coffee table. The TV was on Fox 5 News. I walked over to the notepad, interested in what he apparently found so boring.

"Doctor Curt Conners: Lizard Regeneration Formula" was scribbled along the top of the page. The page was blank aside from the title and the beginning of the word "The." I had forgotten about Curt Conners entirely. Not working with Otto anymore deprived me of outside knowledge.

**xXx**

I pushed open the glass doors of the apartment building and stepped aside as a couple came the opposite direction. On the edge of the sidewalk stood Gwen, wearing a thick, suede coat down to her knees, her hands hidden within her jacket pockets. As I stepped outside, I realized why; it was freezing. The material my Spider-man costume was made of was warmer than I remembered.

"Hey" I smiled, approaching her.

"Hi" she responded as we leaned in for a kiss.

"Ready?" I questioned, pointing my thumb behind my right shoulder indicating that I meant towards MJ's apartment.

"Yeah. I texted you like seven times…" Her hand pointed towards my pocket with my phone. "Why didn't you respond?"

"Uh…my phone was off." I looked up from my pocket to her. She looked at me for a few seconds without comment. "Yeah…"

"OK…can we go up now?" She began to walk past me.

"Yeah, sure…" I pushed open the door for her and followed closely behind.

**xXx**

We were both left slightly panting at the five flights of stairs we had to walk. MJ's apartment was booming with rave music and laughter.

"This one?" she asked jokingly.

"Yeah." I coughed, letting her lead.

We entered the apartment to the sight of about twenty-five people, most drunk. The radio was cranked up to about as loud as it could go. One couple was making out, half-naked on the couch. A couple of people were passed out at certain spots around the room. The twenty or so left standing were yelling above the music. most holding red, plastic cups in their hands. A couple of empty cups had accumulated around the living room; the most popular room in the apartment. The kitchen was close to empty, only holding about three or four people. A line had formed outside the bathroom. A woman was leaving as we closed the door behind us, a man taking her place.

MJ approached, squeezing her way in-between a small group of people who had formed a circle in the corner by the door.

"Wow…a lot happened in the five minutes it took us to walk up those stairs…" I joked, not cracking a smile to show the sarcasm.

MJ laughed. "No, a couple people showed up early."

"How early?" Gwen asked.

"Only about thirty minutes or so…" We stared at her in disbelief that all this happened in a half hour. She noticed the blank stares on our face rather quickly. "Maryland's kinda boring…you sort of have to learn to be your own party." We laughed at the embarrassed way MJ said it; her hand on the back of her head, her face trying not to turn towards us. "Yeah, OK. Make fun of the new girl. Look, if you're gonna laugh, at least do it in the kitchen."

She turned her back and headed for the kitchen. We followed closely behind. I turned my head slightly towards Gwen, keeping my eyes on MJ's path. "Exciting, isn't it!" I was over-hyping the situation, playing with Gwen.

"Well, for us, it is."

I was slightly offended.

"What do you mean?" I pondered, smiling innocently.

"Well, face it Peter, we aren't the most exciting people in the world. We study, go to school, see each other here and there, rinse and repeat."

We entered the kitchen, the few stragglers left chatting idly to each other moved towards the door, away from us. MJ popped open the door to the fridge and pulled out two cans of Budweiser.

"Gwen?" she teased, holding up an empty cup. Her eyes darted to the glass for a second and widened. "Oh. Wait!" She turned her back to us, her hand pulling tape and a marker out of the drawer. Me and Gwen stared wide-eyed at her and each other while she worked out of sight.

She reemerged with the same cup. This time a piece of tape with the name "Gwen" written in black marker was pasted to the side. "It's got your name on it…" she grinned, waving the glass around.

Gwen let out a quick laugh and shook her head. "No thanks."

"Pete?" MJ pulled out another plastic cup of the same style sporting a piece of tape with my name.

I looked at the cup, then the beer, then Gwen. Gwen smiled lightly. I wasn't sure how to read her face. I was in this alone.

"Uh…" Beer. Gwen. Beer. Gwen. "Sure…"

"Alright!" MJ chirped, opening both cans with hesitation.

I looked back at Gwen, hoping the same smile was still there. It was.

"Beer?" Gwen teased, punching me in the shoulder.

"Rinse and repeat my ass." I smiled, punching her back.

MJ came back, both cups filled to the brim. The frothy, brown liquid dripping down the sides of her drink. She handed me mine while still licking the excess alcohol from her cup. I took a sip and regretted it instantly. It tasted terrible. The only times I ever drank was with Harry. We would stop by his place and down a beer or two. Although, his beer's were imported and actually tasted pretty good. This was just gross. I figured I'd pour it into someone else's cup. They wouldn't notice, and even if they did, they probably wouldn't care.

"Pete." MJ started, swallowing the small amount of beer in her mouth. "There's someone I think you should meet." She led us out the kitchen archway, back into the living room. She leaned into me, pointing towards the couch against the back wall. "You see the kid on the couch?" There was one person on the couch. A boy, about our age. He wore a blue t-shirt and jeans. His sneakers were new and expensive. His hair was moderately long, straight and well-groomed. The kid looked like he had money. However, he sat by himself, on the edge of the couch. His beady eyes scanned the room. His eyes met MJ's and he smiled, his hand rising slightly for a wave. MJ waved back. "That's Max Dillon. His Dad was CEO of the Stark outsourcing plant down in Maryland. His Dad's job got moved to the Stark building in the Financial District, so he moved too." She took a sip of her drink and continued. "He isn't very popular, obviously. He's also had a crush on me since fifth grade."

"Yeah…? What am I supposed to do?" I was completely lost in her story and more interested in finding a way to ditch the cup.

"I need you to talk to him. I invited him to be nice. I didn't realize he would have no one to talk to."

"Why me?" I asked.

"You're the only guy here that isn't a total asshole."

"Thanks…" Not being an asshole got me a date with a loser.

"Me and Gwen are gonna bad-mouth you in the kitchen."

"Fun!" Gwen grinned, a smile from ear to ear spreading on her face.

They left the living room laughing, loud enough for me to hear. I took a deep breath and made my way to the couch. Max was 'fake drumming' on his knees while he scoped out the room. Probably looking for MJ. His eyes locked onto mine, freight froze him in place. I smiled as I placed the cup on the coffee table in front of the couch and took a seat.

"Uh…hi…" Max stuttered.

"Hey, Max. I'm Peter. Can we talk?"

His body loosened slightly. "Oh…oh, yeah, OK…"

"So, I hear you're going to school here now."

"Yeah…I'm a senior…" His face broke into maniacal smile. "Did MJ tell you? Did she talk about me?"

"Uh, yeah…" He looked away still smiling, the gears in his head creating a perfect future for him. "So, what's up?"

"Huh? Oh. Well, My Dad works at Thompson Corp., as CEO. But, um, we had to move here a few weeks ago. My Dad's job got transferred to the building down here. That's sorta why we moved…" He was looking at the ground the entire time. "I don't really like talking about myself…I can tell you all about MJ, though!

He was slightly more than obsessed. "Ah, well…sure."

He twisted toward me, his eyes not leaving mine. "Well, her dream is to be an actress. She's acted in the school play a few times; she's pretty good…in my opinion. Oh, she moved here-" His smile dropped from his face and he looked back at the ground. "Never mind."

"Hey, you can't leave me hanging!" I smiled. "What were you saying?"

"Uh…no, no. I can't…I'm not allowed to…"

"I won't tell anyone, I swear."

"You sure?" he breathed deeply.

"Swear."

He took a deep breath of air and rubbed his hands together. He leaned in towards me, "People say she moved her because her Dad is running from the cops, kinda." he whispered.

"What?" I gasped, half smiling.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have-oh man!" he retreated, shame filling his eyes.

"No, no, no! It's fine. Continue." I pressured, fulling invested in the story.

He started, "Well, apparently her Dad drinks…a lot. And hits her! Mostly her sister, Gayle." He pointed to all the cups of beer, mine included. "Someone musta told the authorities because before I even knew it, they were moving. Her Mom doesn't live with them because of this. I think she left when MJ and her sister were little. Gayle's at college right now. She got the hell away from her father the second she turned eighteen."

My brain exploded. It was starting to make sense now. Them moving, no mother figure, her father's anger, the beer. All of it connected. "Holy crap…"

"Don't say anything! Please! I really like her…" he begged, eyes widening, mouth half-open.

"Calm down, Max. I won't say anything. I swore, remember?"

"Thank you!" he smiled, showing his perfect teeth.

"I gotta go, Max. I'll see you in school, though. We'll talk then."

"OK…yeah, cool. See ya."

I got up slowly, stretching out my back as I got to my feet. I turned to walk away when Max called out my name.

"Peter!"

I snapped my head in his direction.

"Your drink!" he pointed a single finger at the red, plastic cup on the coffee table.

"Keep it!" I shouted back, entering the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen, breathing deeply. The smell of body odor and beer left me breathless and I was glad to get fresh air into my lungs. Gwen and MJ were laughing, a single hand covering their mouths, the other locked against the counter-top to prevent them from falling over.

"Speak of the devil." MJ smiled, taking a deep breath of air.

"Ah, cute." I rolled my eyes, resting beside Gwen.

"How was talking to Max?" MJ questioned, smiling. She obviously knew it was awkward. Which it was for all the wrong reasons.

"Nice…nice. He's very interesting."

"I gotta use the bathroom." Gwen interrupted, brushing past me.

There was some awkward silence between me and MJ for a while. Neither of us were exactly sure where to start. MJ took a sip of her drink, set it down and began.

"Tell me about yourself, Peter."

The question caught me completely off-guard. "What? Like my…life story?"

"Well, sure. Let's start there."

"OK…" I circled my tongue around my teeth, looking for a place to begin. Just saying 'Shit' wasn't a long enough story. "Uh….Well, I was born in Forrest Hills. My Mom and Dad were both scientists at Stark Industries. They were working on some sort of cancer thing with another scientist; Brock, I believe. I met the owner, Tony Stark once. I was about six at the time. All the equipment and tech there just blew my mind. I still, to this day, think that's the reason I care about science the way I do." I stopped for a second, trying to retell my past perfectly. I swallowed hard, my eyes looking at MJ for a quick second. She stared, engrossed in my words. "When I was ten years old, my parents had to take a trip to work for some sort of meeting. It was a Saturday, and I had to stay at my Aunt and Uncle's house for a while. I did this anytime my parents had to work while I wasn't in school." I regained my composure and continued my story. "I was playing chess with my Uncle Ben, probably beating him. I don't recall. The phone rang, and my Aunt May picked it up. She began to cry uncontrollably. Uncle Ben jumped up from the table to console her. Then, HE began to cry. Not quite as loud as Aunt May, but it was obvious. Naturally, I got worried. When I asked them what happened, my Aunt told me I wasn't old enough to understand. Uncle Ben bent down to my level and told me, straight to my face. My parents had been killed, crushed in a car accident. A drunk truck driver fell asleep at the wheel and shot across the lane; right into my parents car. The truck's height propelled it above the car and crushed them both instantly." I stopped telling to let it all sink in. I was on the verge of tears, the same feeling from that day making it's way back up.

"Wow…" MJ sighed, head hung low. "That sounds terrible."

"Oh, just wait. It gets better." I smiled. "I lived with my Aunt and Uncle for a while. We had fun, but deep down I still remember what is was like having parents. When the other kids would talk about their parents, I couldn't help but feel left out. If it wasn't for that one day, I could have joined them. I sort of isolated my self from the other kids because of this. Deep down, I guess, I was jealous of them. Then, one day, when I wasn't home, a man out on the street; no place to go, no money, no food, entered my house and began to ask them for money. No one really knows what happened for sure, just the ending. Both of them were shot dead by this maniac. The image of their bloody, life-less bodies, broken and helpless on the floor still haunts me to this day…" I held back the years, not wanting to get emotional.

MJ's was wide-eyed and amazed. "Oh my God…Where were you?"

"Library." Same lie I told Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

"How long ago was this? Three, four years ago?"

I held out my hand, counting the time since then.

"A little over three months…" I noted, coldly.

"Oh, man!" MJ gasped. "Is that why you live next door?"

I nodded faintly, not in the mood to speak. We sat there, silent. Not because it was awkward or weird. Not because we were strangers. It just seemed right. Being Spider-man had make me completely forget about my past.

Gwen returned a few minutes later. Smiling and giddy. "What'd I miss?"

Me and MJ looked up solemnly.

"What happened?" She moved in close to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Nothing." MJ shrugged. "We just didn't have anything to say."

"Really?" Gwen asked, shocked.

"Yeah." I assured. "It's all in the past."


	13. Reveal

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**REVEAL:**

I woke up with a terrible headache. Worse than usual. Most likely an effect of the loud music at MJ's party. I slid out of bed in nothing but my boxers and socks. I rubbed my half open eyes with my left hand and spun the alarm clock in my direction.

8:12 AM

The newspaper would be here. The newspaper with my picture in it. J.J had a ton of my pictures but he's only now getting around to putting one in the paper.

I threw on a new pair of clothes before exiting my room. Ben was in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good, but at this point anything would. I hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours by now.

"Hey, pal." Ben greeted, keeping his attention fixed on the stove.

"Hey" I responded, still half asleep.

"I'm cooking waffles. You want some?"

I slid open the front door and picked up today's newspaper, kept tightly in its plastic coating. "Yeah, sure."

I ripped open the plastic casing, catching Ben's attention. "Is that today's paper?"

I nodded as I unfolded the newspaper and admired the front page. It was one of my pictures alright. My name under it and everything. It was a picture of me coming back to return the money from the other night. The headline stated "SPIDER-MAN NABS CRIMINALS, TAKES MONEY FOR HIMSELF" My heart sunk to my stomach. I was trying to fix up this city and give myself a good name, in my Spider-Man costume or not. Then Jonah comes and shits all over that. This city watches his newspaper like a hawk, eating and devouring every word he spews into these pages.

There goes my super-hero standing.

Ben noted my anger. "Everything OK?"

"Not really…" I sighed, folding the paper back up and placing it on the counter, getting it out of my sight. The mere sight of it was angering me.

"Jonah didn't put your picture in?" Ben dropped three waffles onto a plate.

"No, he did." I sat down at one of the three bar-stools situated next to the island-counters.

"Then what's wrong?" He dribbled the waffle-mix onto the stove-top and picked up his spatula again.

I dragged the paper back over to me and handed it to Ben.

Ben gave me a hard look and raised his hands in the air; one with the batter, the other with the spatula. "You know how to read."

I ripped open the paper with a sigh and read the title aloud. "Spider-man nabs criminals, takes money for himself" I smacked the paper back down in frustration. "He didn't take the money, he returned it! I wrote the whole story down on the back of the pictures…"

"How do you know?" Ben asked, tasking the last three waffles and placing them on another plate. "Were you there?"

I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. Ben placed a plate in front of me, covered in syrup with a fork beside it. "Was I there?" I repeated. "Of course I was there! I took the picture!"

Ben smiled through a mouth-full of waffle "Kidding."

I ate half of a waffle in a single bite and forced it down to continue complaining. "Couldn't we talk to him? Ya know, get him to change it maybe. A retraction!" Another bite. One waffle down.

Ben looked up at me, his mouth surrounded in syrup, his mouth half full. The room was silent aside from the hum of the radiator. I kept my ground and stared back. Without warning he burst into laughing, half choking on his breakfast. I rolled my eyes and continued eating. Two bites and another waffle was gone. Ben began to calm down, his laugh becoming a dyeing wheeze. He looked up at me innocently. "No."

My appetite died along with my excitement. I picked up my plate and let the last waffle slide slowly into the garbage. Ben had already made his way over to the sink and was washing off the various utensils he had used to make breakfast. I picked up my jacket and forcefully put it on, trying to vent as much anger as I could as quickly as possible. I walked back over the counter to retrieve my keys.

"Where are you going?" Ben dropped another plate in the sink.

"For a walk." I mumbled, heading back towards the door. I was going to the Bugle. Not as Peter Parker, as Spider-man. I was giving Jonah a piece of my mind.

"It's snowing." Ben warned.

I tilted my head slightly to the side and noticed he was right. Small, white crystals were gently floating down to the steel and brick skyscrapers and buildings around Manhattan. The sun reflecting off each individual gem as it rested smoothly on a thin coating of snow. It was actually pretty relaxing. I was going to make sure and admire this sight some more right after 'talking' to Jameson.

My trance was broken by the ring of the phone. Ben wiped his hands with a towel and snatched it off the holder.

"Hello?" Ben started, eyes darting around the room. I started for the door again, ignoring Ben's conversation. "Yes…" I opened the door and adjusted my jacket. "Oh my God! Peter!" Crap. I leaned back into the room, my legs still in the hallway. "We need to talk." Ben said urgently, holding the phone to his chest. I nodded my head as I pulled myself back into the apartment, watching Ben finish his conversation. "Yes, yes. Thank you." Ben took a deep breath of air as he placed the phone back on the holder. I studied his body for any sort of sign as to what he wanted to talk to me about. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Obviously it wasn't too urgent.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I was trying to leave and Ben was holding me back.

"Yeah." He put his glasses back on. "Something happened at Doctor Mason's clinic…"

Otto. "What?" I walked over to Ben, holding onto the counter. "Something with Otto?"

Ben nodded slowly. What the hell happened? "He…" Died? "Escaped."

**xXx**

The clinic slowly came into view as I launched myself off my web-strand and into the air. I noticed the smoke emitting from the back as I started my next swing.

"Ah, shit." I cursed, getting ever closer to the crime scene.

With deadly precision, I landed lightly on the lamp post nearest to the building. Five police cruisers had blocked the area off to pedestrians. Each one empty and lifeless aside from the blaring siren lights on the roof. Police tape was wrapped around each one and further illustrated the "off-limits, don't touch" point. The police officers were wandering the premisses. Any observations they were dong had been completed by now. Perfect timing.

I hurled my body across the street and stuck to the clinic with ease.

"Hey-hey! It's Spider-Man!" An officer had spotted me almost immediately after positioning myself on the building.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey." I greeted lazily, uninterested in whatever he had to say.

The sound of metal snapping in place and the slight buzz of my spider-sense caught my attention. I turned my head back to the officer and noticed he was pointing his pistol right at me. Two other officers to his left and right were doing the same. "Freeze Spider-Man!" He demanded, not lowering his gun. "You're under arrest for vigilantism and theft."

Screw you, Jonah. "I wouldn't read the Daily Bugle if I was you." I shrugged.

"I'm serious."

"Oh, come on!" I pleaded. I wasn't in the mood for this. Any other time, not now.

"On the ground now or I will shoot!" One of the officers to his left shouted repeated him.

"But-"

"NOW!" he interrupted.

"You guys-" I was begging every second I could get.

"I WILL SHOOT!" He shouted, hardening his stance.

"MEN! STAND DOWN! NOW!" A familiar voice boomed, alarming the armed officers. Captain Stacy. Thank God.

I dropped from the wall, landing cleanly next to the front door to the clinic. "Yes, sir." The officer obeyed, holstering his pistol. He looked back up at Stacy, slightly intimidated.

"Were you men about to shoot him because of a newspaper article?" Captain Stacy sneered, pointing his left index finger at me, his mouth inches from the officer who told me to stand down. His spit splattered across the cop's face. Yet, he remained still. Looked like a military scene.

"Well, it is the newspaper, sir…" He rebutted, slightly blushing.

"Carson, you do realize this is the same newspaper who reported 'flying cows' last year, don't you?" Stacy rubbed half his face.

"Well…yes, sir."

"Go back to your cruiser with your squad. Head back to HQ, I'll meet you there." He sighed, turning towards me. He pointed another finger in my direction and curled it towards himself a few times indicating I was to follow.

"BYE CARSON!" I yelled to the officer retreating to his car. A few of the other officers around smirked and smiled.

"Long time no see." Stacy greeted as we neared the outside corner of the clinic.

"Yeah. I guess…"

"I assume you're here about the escape?"

"Glad to see the NYPD can promote the right people." He glared at me jokingly. I smiled at him through my mask.

We rounded the corner to the building and faced the wreckage.

"Oh my God…" My jaw unhinged as my eyes scanned over the wreckage.

The wall to his room had been completely blown off, debris scattered all across the area. A large circle had formed around the area where the fire had melted the snow. The room itself was destroyed as well. Anything within the immediate area was singed and burned. The rest was flipped over, broken or thrown out into the hall. Dozens of puncture holes scaled the building next to it, leading to the roof. The hole in the wall was covered by more police tape and surrounded my eight or nine officers. Most of them were conversing, a few cleaning up supplies. DeWolfe was yelling at one of the cops, infuriated and pissed.

"Yeah, my reaction as well." Stacy commented, taking a deep breath of air, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing.

"What happened?" I pestered, craving for answers.

"Well, the security camera last showed Otto still lying in bed. Whatever happened occurred not too long after judging by the singeing of the bricks based on the last recorded time of the camera. From what we can gather by the smell and burn marks, it seems an oxygen tank ruptured due to extreme heat or pressure."

I pointed to the marks along the building next-door. "And those?"

"We have no idea." His voice was full of disappointment. "They sure aren't bullet holes unless the Hulk purchased a handgun." He let out a huge yawn, stretching out his whole body for the extra effect.

"Long day?" I joked. It was only 9:30 AM.

"You know it." A quick yawn. "Well, I got to meet Carson and his team for a debriefing at HQ." He turned to leave but came back almost as quickly. "I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: Thanks."

I looked at him confused, not that he could tell. "For what?"

"For…everything. I know the Bugle gives you crap and most of this city probably hates you now, but don't give up." He patted me on the shoulder and left. Just like that.

I fixed my attention back on the crime scene and noticed that DeWolfe was smoking a cigarette by the dumpster. Might as well make a move now.

**xXx**

I pulled myself down the building slowly and silently. DeWolfe was finishing off her smoke below me. When I was close enough I sat upright to the wall, my back against it.

"Ya know, some people would say they prefer the smell of the dumpster to your cigarette." I quipped, leaning my arms on my legs.

She jumped for a second, her stub of a cigarette falling from her fingers and onto the snow-dusted pavement. Her left hand used the dumpster to hold her up as she regained her bearings. "Oh, it's you." She sighed, wiping her hand on her pant leg. She turned her attention back to me and looked me over from head-to-toe. "Ah, so you decided to ditch the 'hobo' look didn't you?"

"Things happen."

She coughed into her hands stared hard into the center of the accident. I looked from her to the crime scene and back. "What do you want?" She probed, furrowing her brow.

"Just checking on my biggest fan."

"You should know that I don't like your kind."

"You should know that I was joking."

A blank stare covered her face and hid her emotion. "Funny." She began to walk away, trying to escape our conversation.

"Why DO you hate me, anyway?" I wondered, hopping off the building and following her on foot.

"I don't need to back-up my opinions, do I?" She hissed.

"I don't need to wear tights and risk life and limb for you either. Yet…"

Her feet stopped and her head hung low. A white puff of air escaped her lips as she let out a sigh of defeat. She double-backed on me and met me face-to-face. "I hate you because of what you are doing to this city."

"Cleaning it up?"

"Infecting it." Ouch. "You super-hero types instill hope and peace. People may say they hate you but in reality all they really want is a hug from their favorite hero and a balloon to match. We feel out of place and dependent on you. Once you're gone, people will crumble, unsure on how to fend for themselves and the city will rot. It will be an empty carcass of its self. A shell." The words stung mostly because of the raw hatred in her voice. "Did that answer your question?"

"Yeah…yeah. It did."

"Good." She turned her back on me and headed for the building. "Go home. Do your homework or something."

**xXx**

"Am I really infecting this city?" I traced the roof to the Daily Bugle for a third time. When I had to think and I had no one to talk to, I would talk to myself. "No. I'm a hero…right?" I sat against the air conditioning unit, my head in my hands. I had planned on bitching to J.J., but my plans were blown out the window by Mrs. DeWolfe's kind words. I stood back and admired the sight of New York. The Daily Bugle was just three blocks from the Empire State Building, giving me a great sight of the island. The snow only added to the effect. "I'm too paranoid." I decided, smiling to myself. I let gravity take me as I fell off the edge of the building, the wind whipping past my face, the sound of rushing air soothing me. At the last second I connected a web-line to a nearby building and swung inches above the civilian's heads. One of them touched my leg with his hand. "Hands off the merchandise!" I called back, releasing the webbing and soaring through the air.

In an instant my spider-sense went off, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up, the bottom of my skull on fire. In mid-air, I turned one hundred-eighty degrees to face the danger but was caught by the neck and thrown three hundred feet to a nearby skyscraper. I landed head-first, rolling over my right shoulder to cushion the fall. The speed I had gained sent me off my feet and spiralling onto my back.

"What the hell just happened…?" I mumbled, pulling myself onto my feet.

"Hello, Spider-man." The voice was gravely, but somewhat high-pitched, as if they were constantly laughing. I looked upwards, towards my attacker.

In front of me stood a dark, muscular figure floating on a bat-shaped metal glider. His skin was a dark, scaly green. He wore deep purple gloves and boots, each torn at the top as if ripped by dogs. A shredded poncho-like cloth draped his body and was held there by his shoulder and a leather belt around the waist. It was colored the same as the boots and gloves and went down to his knee level. A second one, only going to his lower chest covered his upper-body and doubled as a hood. His face was hidden beneath the cloak, but I could still make out a pair of sharp, white teeth and piercing red eyes. A satchel, matching his belt, crossed his right shoulder and hung limply on his left side.

"Uh, wow. I-I don't know what to say." He was threatening and silly at the same time. A tug of two completely different emotions.

"Why say anything?" He grinned. "Mr. Parker."

My heart stopped. My name. This psychopath, this guy I've never met before, knew my fucking name! My blood turned cold and I could feel my brain tense at the very thought of him knowing my name.

He noticed my insecurity. "What's wrong, Peter?" His glider spit out two gusts of flame and he began to circle me. "Did you really think your dollar-store mask was going to save your identity? Please."

He was taunting me, laughing in my face. Despite my better judgement, I let it get to me, the anger in my chest rising up and clotting like a disease until I couldn't take it anymore. "What do you want?" I hissed, clenching my fists.

"Aw, is little Petey trying to act all tough for me. If I didn't know better, I would say you were trying to put on a show for Gwen."

Bastard.

I leapt at him, my hands grasping at thin air as he spun ninety degrees. His gloved hand caught me by the back of the skull and tossed me in the direction of another building. This time, I went head first into the building. The glass broke on impact, spraying out into the office. A woman screamed. Someone else was yelling orders to get to the elevator. A cubicle stopped me mid-tumble. I used it to get to my feet, one of the plastic walls breaking off in my hands. The hum of an engine sounded by the broken window. My attacker hopped off his glider and onto the rugged floor.

I threw a strand of webbing at his face, his reflexes getting him out of the way in time. Before he had a chance to move again, I hurled the piece of cubicle at him. He went head over heels and onto his back. I took the chance to cover him in webbing, hoping it would stop his movement. I rushed towards him, hopping to end it quick. With ease he snapped the blanket of webbing and was back on his feet before I had a chance to reach him. I slid to the side dodging a punch from his right arm and ducked under a left hook following it. I sent my fist into his stomach, pushing him away.

He reached into his satchel and lobbed two pumpkin shaped objects at me. Each one left a trail of flame as they headed in my direction. I dove out of the way of the first one and vaulted over another cubicle to avoid the other. The first explosion ripped through the air, the second sending me and the cubicle across the office towards another row of windows. My head was ringing and my lungs were ablaze. The foot of my assailant planted itself to my chest, pinning me to the ground.

"Bit of a cliché, isn't it?" I coughed under his weight.

"The Goblin is no cliché." He snarled, picking me up by the neck, his foot releasing the pressure. Goblin. I was being attacked by a man named 'Goblin' who knew my name. Typical.

I swung my legs out, both of them snapping his head back, hand releasing. I dropped to my feet, massaging my throat for a second. When The Goblin had steadied himself, I wrapped his chest in webbing and jumped out the nearest window. Both of us were sent out into the chilling, winter air. Broken glass danced around us as we plummeted down towards the street. In the time between jumping out the window and falling, he had somehow managed to rope himself towards me and had gripped my neck again. I sent a fury of punches into his chest, creating a bit of space in-between the two of us. My foot rammed into his chest, breaking his grip on my neck. Knowing we didn't have much time until we hit the ground, I connected web-line to the office building and swung away.

The Goblin's body dropped to the ground and landed onto a parked car. The windows broke outwards, car alarm blaring. A couple of people screamed as the doors fell to the floor. I released the webbing, falling to the ground. Smoke poured out of the open hood and into the air. I limped over to The Goblin's body, traffic stopping to admire the wreckage.

My eyes widened at one of the most unbelievable sights of my life. The car shook and was lifted into the air. The Goblin was fine. More than fine, he was holding a Subaru above his head!

"No way…" I gasped.

He chucked the car in my direction, but not at me. It was headed toward a group of pedestrians who had stuck around to watch the show.

I raced the car, sliding over the hood of another parked car by my hip. As I landed, I shot a gob of webbing at a nearby light-post to my left and darted right, towards another post. The webbing stretched out into a net above their heads. A few of them had the brains to run, but there were still a handful who were too scared to move and resorted to 'standing fettle position.' The car hit the net, bounced twice and stopped. The pedestrians underneath looked up with caution and celebrated their lives.

I looked over at The Goblin and noticed he was gone. He had disappeared during my bout of heroism. I was pissed, tired and hurt, my costume was dirty and cut and there was a mad-man on the loose who knew my name and friends.

A man in his mid-thirties rushed over to the car urgently, fear in his eyes. He looked at the license plate and screamed. "MY FUCKING CAR!"

I grinned from ear to ear beneath my mask. "Shit happens, man. Shit happens."


	14. Grief

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**GRIEF:**

The sun streamed a steady glow of late morning sun throughout the entire apartment. It cast out shadows stretching across the apartment giving the place a very varied look. I threw my free hand up in front of my face as the sun attempted to blind me. My other hand was holding onto a bowl of Cheerios, which, by this point, had taken the appearance of a sponge. A cloud rolled past and hid the sun from view, letting me concentrate on the television again. I let out a silent sigh as I noticed it had changed to commercial while I wasn't paying attention.

"Are you tired of debt weighing down your life?" The TV advertised, showcasing a young woman with straight blonde hair acting in front of the camera. A slideshow of black and white pictures of depressed people fading into one another behind her.

My cereal won over my interest as I stirred around the near liquid breakfast. One bite was enough to tell me the milk had done its magic and was eating the cereal for me. I set it down on the coffee table and began to wonder when my Sunday morning 'shovel-ware' cartoons would be back? A commercial with a grass-green background caught my attention almost instantly.

A man in a nice gray suit with white under-shirt and deep red tie was addressing me this time. "OSCORP: Where Dream Meets Reality."

OSCORP. Harry. I had completely forgotten.

I rubbed my temple in disgust at my stupidity. MJ's party and The Goblin completely preoccupied me. Harry was my damn near only friend and I had forgotten about him. Ben was at the Bugle for a mandatory meeting with 'sour-puss' and had left me a list of things to pick up sometime today. I suppose I would pick them up, return home and try calling Harry. Harry never was one to wake up before three in the afternoon.

**xXx**

The 'Ding-Dong' of the supermarket doors was one feature of life I had NOT missed while hiding in my own misery. Funny how they always come back in the most obnoxious of ways.

I swung out the tired and worn piece of paper from my pocket with the list of food to get. Was obviously a quick-list judging by the five things written: Bread, Milk, Pretzels, Peanut Butter and Oranges. Bread was in isle three which was at the far left of the chilled market. I made my way down the green and white checkered floor and chipping yellow walls. Each isle was covered in advertisements for toothpaste, crackers and other products. Sunday was 'church day' and being a predominately Catholic city, the streets were quieter than usual and the supermarket more open. I began to pass the cashiers when a friendly voice shouted my name.

A man and woman, both my age were at the checkout line with a cart barely full of items. A gallon of water and some red, plastic cups were the two visible items, but I assumed there was more. The man was heavy with a growing goatee and skin-head. He was dressed in a red sport jacket and jeans. The woman had dark, flowing brown hair and a medium amount of make-up. She was wearing a fur coat and jeans as well. Kong and Liz. "Peter!" Kong called again, waving me over.

I went over mostly because I had nothing better to do and I really was interested in what Kong wanted to talk to me about. "Yeah?" I sighed, slightly annoyed at his appearance.

"Just wanted to see what's up." Kong shrugged, noticing the hint of anger in my voice. "Oh, and Peter, I assume you know Liz…" His beefy left arm director towards Liz.

"Oh…yeah." The drunk bitch who kissed me. "Why?" Liz gave me a dirty look, obviously remembering that night, and turned towards the cashier who began to make small-talk with her.

"Just introducing." Kong explained, scratching his clean-shaven head.

"Uh, cool." Waste of time. "I need to pick up a few things, so I'll see you in school, Kong." I turned to walk away, secretly shaking my head at Kong's need for attention.

"Oh, Peter!" Kong stated urgently. "About school…"

What's interesting about school? "Yes?"

"Flash is spreading stuff about you…" Kong let out an embarrassed smiled. "He's a sore loser, I guess..."

"Flash is scum. Nothing more, nothing less." I growled "You're his bitch, you should know that."

"Hey! I'm no ones bitch!" Kong defended.

"You're Flash's bitch!"

Kong leaned in towards me. His height giving him the advantage to tower over me. "And to think I defended you."

Liz made her way over carefully, sliding her arm along Kong's bicep and sliding it up to his shoulder. Her eyesight never leaving Kong's face. "Come on, Kong. Let's not start now."

"Look, I don't regret your help. I just need you to understand that as long as you let Flash treat you the way he does, you'll never be any different than him." I explained.

"You-" Kong started.

"Never."

Kong let out a deep sigh as he lowered his guard. "I appreciate the…help. Or whatever you want to call this, but Flash has influence."

"And you have muscles." Liz backed up.

Kong smiled, showing his slightly yellow teeth to her before turning his attention back toward me. "For whatever reason, people have some sort of need for Flash's approval."

"You too?" I wondered, feeling like I was stumbling onto something.

"Flash and I became friends through football." He shrugged. "I never thought about it too much…"

I stood there for a minute, replaying the conversation in my head. "You say Flash has been talking crap about me?"

"Yeah. It only started a day or two after you kicked his ass."

"Kong…" I smiled. "I have a big order for you to fill out."

"'Sup?" Kong tilted his head to the right slightly, mimicking an owl.

"How do you feel about rocking Flash's shit?"

"I-I…I have no idea. Why?"

"If the school sees his best friend, you, turn against him…he might lose influence."

"Why are you so obsessed with Flash's takedown?" Kong furrowed his brow, Liz slowly pushing herself off of Kong's frame.

I turned toward the door. "I don't like Flash. I thought that was a unanimous feeling."

**xXx**

I kicked open the door to the apartment while trying to juggle the bag of groceries. I placed them carefully on the counter, shoving my keys in my pocket. The paper bag crumpled and fell over, the contents spilling all over the counter.

"Ah, crap." I sighed, ignoring the mess and walking over to the phone. A vibrant number 1 flashed across the tiny screen, an obnoxious beep following each flash.

Ben's voice emitted from the speaker as I pressed the play button. "Hey, pal. If you don't get this message I assume you're at the store. The meeting is running a little late, and afterwards me and Kingsley are grabbing a few beers. I should be home at around six or seven. OK, thanks." Another beep initiated the end of the message.

The current time was 3: 46. Plenty of time before Ben got home. Might as well check on Harry. Harry had ignored my past three cell calls. Maybe his home phone would be luckier.

I punched in Harry's number and waited mind-numbingly through a series of repeating rings. After six rings, his answering machine picked up.

"Hello and welcome to the Osborn Residence." Norman's voice. "We aren't home at the moment, so if you could, please leave a message."

Beep.

"Hey, Harry, it's Peter. I've…I've tried calling you a few times already. Is everything-" A loud crash rocked the background and diverted my attention. "Harry? Harry, what was that? Harry!" No answer. "Dammit, Harry! I'll be there in twenty minutes!" I dropped the phone into the holder and raced for the door.

**xXx**

I tumbled into the balcony of the OSCORP building, crouching precisely in front of the clear, glass doors leading into the living room. My mind was racing through possibilities as to what the crash was. It was racing so fast that I only bothered to wear the mask of my suit. No time to put on the rest of the suit.

I tore the mask from my face and shoved it in my pocket and doing the same thing with my web-shooters. The glass doors squeaked slightly as I made my way into the living room. The faint odor of alcohol and bile wafted in front of my face. The living room was neatly-kept aside from a few bags of chips and a dirty glass on the coffee table. The TV was left on, the rhythm of rap music emanating from the speakers as MTV aired a music video. I continued past the couches and toward the kitchen. The hallway to Harry's room was through the kitchen and I figured if he was anywhere, he was there. As kids, Harry and I would hang out only in his room. We played nothing but Xbox and giggled like idiots at a Playboy or two. Kid stuff. So simple compared to this crap.

The sparkle of glass caught my eye as I turned the corner to the kitchen. The wine cabinet in the corner by the stove had been broken to pieces. A blender lie beneath it, scratch marks riddled its frame and the plastic was cracked. The wine from the cabinet was gone aside from one bottle which had been broken with the cabinet. Its olive-green liquid flowing from the bottle and over the shelf, drenching the floor and broken glass. The lock around the handle was secure and unmarked. Possibly a burglary?

Even with the growing ease of a burglar, I continued towards Harry's room. The smell of puke becoming more consistent. I wrapped my hand around the door knob, the sound of clanking glass sounding from the other side. With a heavy sigh, I turned the knob and let the door drift away from me. My eyelids jumped from my pupils, my hand snapping upwards to cover half my mouth.

Harry lay across the floor, his upper back resting against the foot of his bed. His head was tilted toward the ceiling as he downed a bottle of booze. Three more bottles lined up on his right. The same kind of bottles that were in the wine cabinet. A dozen or more empty bottles of various alcoholic drinks were scattered around the room. A puddle of vomit lay by his computer in the far right corner, another on Harry's left. Harry's right arm was dripping with blood. Several scratches lined his hand and lower forearm. He gasped for air as his head dropped back to its resting position. Black rings had formed around his eyes, his skin taking on a bright white color with a hint of yellow. The bottle rolled away from his fingertips and into an unoccupied spot on the wood-covered floor.

"Harry…" I shook, my joints locked in place, eyes still focusing on Harry. "My God…"

"Hhheeeyyyyy…Peeeettteerrrrrr…" Harry's voice was straining as his brain fumbled through months worth of alcohol looking for letters.

"Holy shit." I gasped, my mind beginning to grasp the image. "What the hell are you doing?"

Harry didn't answer. His head had slumped to his chest; spit dripping from his gapping mouth. My mind began to relax as I realized Harry wouldn't fight me when I brought him to the hospital. My heart imploded as I took a better look at him.

His chest was unmoving.

"No…" I raced towards Harry, kicking away the wine by his side. I pressed my ear to his chest, checking for a heartbeat or some sort of breath.

One one-thousandth. Nothing.

Two one-thousandth. Nothing.

Three one-thousandth. Nothing.

"HARRY!" Harry was dead, or close to. No heartbeat, no breath, no life. Dead.

I threw Harry onto his back, flattening his body out for a better chance at air. I opened his mouth and wrapped my lips around it. With all my lung-power, I forced three breaths of air into his lungs. Nothing.

"No, God dammit. Not now." Two more.

Nothing.

With a shaky hand I pulled out my cell-phone and called 911 and got up to my feet. My head hurt, the tears welling up in my eyes.

An operator picked up instantly. "Hello, 911, what's your emergency?"

"MyfriendisdeadHedranktoomuch-" I was talking too fast to understand.

"Please, sir. I can't understand you. Could you slow down?"

"MY FRIEND IS DEAD! WHY THE HELL IS THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?" I shrieked, punching the wall beside me.

"We have your location; we are sending help right away."

Beep.

I looked back over at Harry. He still wasn't moving. I fell against the wall the tears streaming down my face. I tried to hold them in, telling myself it would be alright. I started to calm down, the flow of tears stopping for a split-second. I took a deep breath of air looked back at Harry. His cold, rotting body was too much for me as I began to sob again. My breath came short and quick as my chest began to spasm. The tears drenched my face and pants, head in my hands.

Anyone but Harry. Anyone.

**xXx**

The hospital was loud, bustling. I sat in an uncomfortable, black, plastic chair across from room three twenty. Harry was having his stomach pumped within, the very idea churning my stomach. The only thing running through my mind was why Harry would do this. Harry wasn't an alcoholic, at least not as far as I knew. Why would he drink his life away? Literally. I shook my head out of confusion and took a look at my phone.

5:48 PM.

I had already been here for a little over an hour and a half. Felt like so much longer. I needed someone to talk to. Things were deteriorating fast. I was on the verge of a breakdown.

The elevator sprung to life as it pulled up to the floor. I cocked my head behind me out of curiosity, not because I was expecting anyone. My heart fluttered as I took in the sight of Gwen emerging from the elevator. I sprung from the chair, standing in the middle of the hallway, facing her. Her eyes were slightly teary, her walking speed increasing with each step. She hopped into the air, slamming into me. Her knees were bent to keep her feet off the ground, arms around my neck. She buried her face into my shoulder, tremors from her tears violently shaking her body. I hugged her back, securing my arms under her shoulders.

"Oh God, Peter." she cried, voice muffled by my shoulder.

"I know…I know." I assured, holding back tears myself.

Gwen dropped her grasp and secured her position in front of me. Mascara ran down her cheeks, her tears further liquefying it. "Is he…?"

"No, thank God."

I turned from her and looked at the door. No sound emitted from the room. The hallway, on the other hand was booming with life. A doctor jogged past me, clipboard in hand. A woman's voice called out of the loud speakers for a Doctor Stephen Strange. I assumed that was the doctor who had just ran past me as I retook my seat across from the room Harry was in. Gwen looked at me for a moment before taking the seat beside me.

"Are you OK?" She wiped the stream of mascara from her face.

"No." I sighed "I-I feel…helpless. Harry's my best friend and I-I let him drown in alcohol and shit. I…I…." The tears began to spur up again.

Gwen noticed the emotion gushing from my face and embraced me. "It sucks, I know."

The tears began to pour from my eyes, wetting my cheeks and Gwen's shoulder. I gently eased myself out of her grasp and smiled at her. "Thanks…thanks." I swiped away the tears with one hand and looked at the door again. "How did you find out? Your Dad?"

"No, my cousin, Philip, is a 'Doctor-in-training'"

"Ah, well, I'm glad he called you. I had forgotten…" I admitted while my mind was buzzing with scenarios of why he would do this and what would happen next. A bolt of realization shot through my body as I leapt to my feet.

Gwen jumped up beside me, placing her hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I just realized…" I began, staring numbly at the door. "I found Harry…at home…"

"Yeah…?"

"…Where the hell was his Dad…where the hell IS his Dad…?"

Gwen stared at me dumbly, eyes darting across my face. I looked back just the same. "I…I don't know."

"Do you think he…abandoned him?" I whispered, trying to keep it secret.

"I-I don't know…I'd rather-"

Gwen was cut short by the click of Harry's hospital room opening. A doctor in turquoise colored scrubs emerged with two nurses behind him, each dressed the same. He crossed the hallway, placing his clipboard in the holder beside the door and carefully taking off the white mouth-cover from around his jaw.

"So?" I began, moving towards him.

"He'll be fine." the doctor smiled reassuringly, crossing his arms. "There was a lot of crap in his system. Even some medicinal drugs. We couldn't identify them completely, but they didn't cause any more harm than the alcohol."

"Thank you so much." In my mind, I was on my knees; kissing his ass.

"Can we go in to see him?" Gwen asked quietly, trying to match the volume of the doctors voice.

"Yeah, sure. Just don't touch his abdominal area or wake him. Visiting hours end in a few minutes, though." He smiled casually, patted me on the shoulder, and walked off down the hall.

Gwen and I entered the room cautiously, trying not to hold too much hope that Harry would look fine. The room's walls were green on the bottom half and white on the top half with a clean white tile floor. On the far side of the room, in front of a row of windows the size of me was Harry's bed. A nightstand, the same grey color, stood on its left, a heartbeat monitor on the right. A box of tissues, flower and a radio sit nicely atop the table adding to the atmosphere. Harry was tucked tightly beneath two layers of baby blue blankets. He was thinner than usual thanks to the stomach pump and pale, his rich blue veins showing above his translucent skin. Strands of his dark brown hair spread out in many directions as his head lie propped up against the overstuffed pillow. A thin wire connect from the heartbeat monitor to his wrist, the metal clip hidden beneath a layer of surgical tape. Gwen circled around the bed to his right side, I took the opposite direction. We both looked down at him in grief, neither of us exactly sure what to say and how loud to talk to prevent him from waking.

"God, he looks terrible…" Gwen noted, placing her hand on Harry's shoulder.

"At least he'll be alright…" I shrugged, looking her in the eyes.

"Don't know how much that means."

"Me neither."

We both smiled at each other softly, trying to lighten up the situation. But it stared us down, destroyed our defences, and left us both feeling terrible. Miserable. We couldn't help Harry and we were his friends.

"I can't stay here any longer." Gwen sighed, walking back toward the door.

"Whoa!" I darted for the door, and held it shut. "Why are you leaving? You can't leave me…"

"Peter, it's not you, it's not Harry...it's me."

"What?"

"Ever since my Mom died, I've never been good with death. It's always felt…weird." She looked at the ground before snapping her head back up, a black hair-band keeping her hair from moving in front of her eyes. "I know it's natural, but it makes me wonder. Ya know?"

No. "Yeah…I do."

"Now please, Peter." She stepped in close to me. "Can I go home?"

"No." She looked at me in shock and disgust. "Only if I can walk you home." A smile spread across my face indicating it was a joke.

**xXx**

We passed by the front desk, the middle-aged woman behind it smiling pleasantly at me as we passed by. I smiled back out of courtesy. We neared the door as I realized I hadn't called Ben. I pulled out my phone and looked at the time, my feet stopping my movement. Gwen looked back as she noticed I wasn't beside her anymore.

6:23 PM

Ben might be home. I wouldn't know unless I called. No need to make him worry.

"Uh, Gwen. I need to call Ben. He might be wondering where I am."

"OK, I was just thinking about getting something from the cafeteria anyway."

I could use a coffee. "Could you pick me up a coffee?" Gwen nodded, pulling a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket. "Thanks, wait here until I get back."

We kissed quickly, both of us knowing we would see each other very quickly. I glided through the automatic doors and out into the sidewalk. The street was busy both on and off the road. The sidewalks were packed shoulder-to-shoulder with pedestrians, most in suits and ties with a briefcase. The roads were bumper-to-bumper, the majority of the cars being taxi's. That's Rush Hour for you. I opened up my contact list on my phone and began to scroll down.

A scream blasted out into the evening air. A girl's scream, from the alley beside the hospital. A few people on the sidewalk had heard it to, judging by the way they all suddenly turned and looked at each other, confused. I put the phone back into my pocket and raced for the alleyway. Two silhouettes stood against the pale moonlight, one a man, the other a woman. The woman was protecting a purse as the man mercifully beat on her.

"Hey! You!" I called toward the thief. He snapped his head in my direction, right hand still holding the woman's sleeve. "Leave before I call the cops!" The man continued to look at me, his face hidden beneath his hood and a layer of darkness. He looked down at the woman and then back at me. I crept the phone out from my pocket and began putting in 9-1-1. The man still looked at me silently. The awkwardness of the situation becoming more and more uncomfortable. "Last chance!" I called back.

The man picked up the woman by the throat holding a knife to it. The woman screamed at the sight of his weapon, the moonlight reflecting off of it.

"Don't do it!" I shouted. "Put the knife down." After a moment of silence, the man pulled the knife away and dropped it on the ground. His grip on the woman still strong. "Now-now…put her down."

In a flash, the assailant twisted the woman's neck; the sound of breaking bones rattling my ear drums. She slumped to the floor, head backwards. I stood wide-eyed at the dead figure, paying no attention to the killer. I looked back up at him, but he was gone. All that remained was the poor woman's corpse, lying helpless and broken among the snow-covered alleyway.

"Hey, Spider-Man." A voice cackled beside my ear.

I knew who it was instantly. That terrible laughing voice. His slimy hand wrapping around my throat, the other swiping at my phone, knocking it to the concrete. The Goblin stood firmly in the middle of the alleyway, darkness hiding us both. His gloved hand holding me above his head.

His other peeling away a hoodie.


	15. Ever Closer

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**EVER CLOSER:**

His cold, slimy hand held it's grip around my neck. It wasn't enough to cut off my breath, but enough to keep me moving. Those threatening, red, beady eyes laughing at me from under the damaged hood. His teeth had come together to form a gangly smile. Each one slightly barbed. Meant for intimidation. It was working. My phone lay twisted and lonesome on the concrete ten feet away. My eyes darted over to it, hoping for it to be closer. I swore under my breath as I realized it was too far to grasp once I freed myself from his possession. A gust of wind blew through the alley. My hair shifted to the side, the loose strands of fabric on his clothing rustled through the hair. A Daily Bugle newspaper tumbled across the ground, kicking up snow with it. I wrestled in his grip, hoping to find a way out. He responded with a tighter grasp.

"Please, Peter." He shook his head. "I'm not letting you go this easily."

"How did you find me?" His new grip on my neck made it slightly harder to breath. I regretted the resist already. The dead woman flashed across my mind. "That woman. You killed her to lure me here…didn't you."

"I know everything about you, Parker…" He pulled me in closer. His breath foaming out around my face. "And everyone you care about. I killed that woman to get you closer. If I wanted to I could have killed you right there on the sidewalk. But that wouldn't work with me."

I had heard enough. I my feet into his nose, sending him head-over-heels. His grip opened slightly, but not enough to get free. I wrapped my hand around his slightly protruding thumb and cracked it backwards. The Goblin hissed in pain and dropped me to the ground. He had backed up slightly, caressing his nose and thumb with his free-hand. I used the advantage to snap on my web-shooters and slip on my mask.

"If you know everything about me and the people I know, then you must know where Mister Osborn is." I was remaining optimistic that this bastard knew something, anything, about Harry.

He turned his head to the side to spit out some blood. The crimson residue shot from his lips and hit the alleyway with a subtle 'SPLAT!' "Oh, trust me. I know where Norman Osborn is." A grin took over his face. He was teasing with me. Playing with me.

I lurched at him, my fist connecting to his cheek bone. My next fist planted itself firmly in his neck. His breath shortened, stopped. Knowing I had victory in my view, I swung for his nose. He recovered instantaneously, grabbing my fist; freezing it in mid-air. Stunned, I looked at him for a hint of his next move. His fist was coming straight towards me. But things were going in slow-motion. The snow-flakes gently floating down from the night sky melted as they touched our bodies. The survivors piling up on the already accumulated snow. His fist struck my mouth, hand unlocking from around my fist. I was thrown backwards, the world rushing past my vision. The dumpster behind me stopped my movement, the handle smashing my back. The pain rocketed up my spine, making me light-headed. My body crumpled to the ground. My upper-body numb, brain ringing. The woman's crippled frame rested gently beside me. "Whe-where is he…?"

"Oh, don't you worry." His boot stomped on my hand as I pulled myself up. "I have him locked up safe-and-sound in my own personal box."

I caught his ankle with my free-hand and pulled it towards me. My other hand sliding cleanly out from under his foot. His balance was broken, his back nearly parallel with the ground. Keeping my grasp on his ankle and using my newly free-hand, I plunged my fist downwards into his chest. His body dropped straight down under the weight of my strike, spreading snow in various directions as he collided with the ground. I continued my rain of blows with a punch to the neck and a one-two combo to his face. I had forgotten about his legs. I was sent rolling along the ground by his feet cracking into my ribs. Before I could complete my second roll along the cement, my back made contact with the brick wall of the building next to the hospital. There was no room. I needed to get out of the alley. Still upside down, I stuck my feet to the wall and launched myself upwards. My out-stretched arms stopping my forward momentum before I cracked my skull against the wall. The Goblin sent his foot cracking through the wall where my body rested just mere moments ago. The bricks crumbled around his shin, pinning his leg in place. I used the time to scamper my way up the wall and onto the roof.

The roof was covered in knee-high snow. The air-conditioning unit was half visible under the white blanket. The heat from the smoke stacks had melted away the snow around them. The snow crunched under my weight as I vaulted over the edge of the building onto the roof. I gave myself distance for The Goblin to appear. No need in being attacked from behind. Spider-sense or not. Using the time I had garnered, I whipped away the remaining snowflakes from my pitch-black lenses. The snow left streaks of water behind before evaporating into the air. I readied myself for The Goblin, my eyes trained on the wall I had scampered up. Nothing happened. I calmed, thanking God that he had left already.

My spider-sense fired up, ridding me of any reassurance.

I spun myself around, The Goblin's fist driving into my cheek bone and sending me across the rooftop. The snow was thick and softened my landing near the air-conditioning unit. Sitting up, I realized a gash had formed across my face. It ran from left cheek bone to right under my right eye. My mask was torn at the cut's position. Blood seeped from the severed flesh, the snow turning a delicate pink. I ignored the pain long enough to dodge The Goblin's next strike; a curb-stomp to my chest area. Slipping from his foot, I leapt up onto my feet. I assumed this gave me the opportunity for a hit or two. The Goblin was faster than my own mind. He spun his body, his fisting slicing through the heavy, winter air towards my nose. I ducked under it, ramming my shoulder up into his stomach to double him over. Instead, he backed up against the air-conditioner. He was stunned, dazed. I smashed his body up against the metal cube with a 'CLANG!' His knees buckled, head at my chest level. I didn't stop. Last time I thought he was beaten, he threw a car at me.

I clutched his hood and dangled him in front of him. I studied over his real face, the retracted hood shining light on the upper-half of his head. He looked eerily familiar to someone I knew. I couldn't tell who. But it sent shivers up my back. Still holding his hood, I retracted my arm and launched it forward. The Goblin's face collided with the air-conditioner, a large crack forming up the sturdy, aluminum. His body slumped to the floor, blood oozing from the wounds on his face. I backed up, chest barrelling up and relaxing as the chill air filled my lungs and left them in mist. My spider-sense went off again. I snapped my head side-to-side, The Goblin still resting silently by my feet. Nothing. I looked back down at The Goblin. His beaten and worn body filling me with pride. My heart sank to my stomach when I saw a lit pumpkin bomb in his closest hand. The eyes and mouth glowing a sickly green.

I threw my arms up in front of my face, back-pedaling as far as I could. I didn't get more than two steps before it went off. Green smoke foamed up around me, blinding me, chocking me. Through the fog and tears, I could barely make out The Goblin standing up, dusting the snow off of him. He turned and looked at me for a second. He foot kicked me in the lower-chest. My body cascading down into the alley, racing the snowflakes. Through the clearing smoke, I could barely make out the Goblin's face. Those smiling, red eyes. Deep green, scaly skin.

Mister Osborn's smile.

A shock of fear and disgust overcame me, running through my brain like electricity in water. I couldn't take my eyes off his face, all these terrible images running through my mind. The wind was knocked out of my body as I collapsed into the alleyway, the grey sweatshirt from before beside me. I began to cough and wheeze through burning lungs and a constricting chest. The last of the green smoke swirling away into the darkness of night. The Goblin's face gone from sight. It was still there in my memory. I remained on my back, battle scars intensifying, blood trickling down my left cheek. My chest began to open, lungs relaxing, breath even. My brain was still crippled with angst.

Norman Osborn WAS The Goblin.

I sat up, fingers massaging my temples. A massive headache ripping through my skull. Figuring I had spent far too long on this 'call to Ben', I picked myself up. My mask slid off my battered head. The right lens was cracked, both web-shooters still intact. I put all three, mask and both web-shooters, in my jacket pockets and headed back towards the entrance. I felt like I was forgetting something and turned around slowly, eyes scanning the environment for an idea. My phone lay half-covered in snow in the center of the cement. Feeling stupid, I walked over, surprised my legs weren't harmed.

"Crap." I sighed, examining the phone. The screen was cracked, half the keys missing. "So much for that call."

I pulled myself out into the sidewalk, foot crushing a lone newspaper page. The street had cleared for the most part. Only a handful of people on foot. A gust of wind stung my face where the gash was. I realized I would need a cover-up for that. I turned back towards the corner of the brick wall. Eyeing the area, I saw that no one was close enough to see what I was doing. I punched the corner, a single brick cracking in half while still holding its place. I was going on the 'clumsy Parker' story; didn't know where I was walking and smacked into a brick wall. I figured it would suffice for now. I couldn't be bothered with crappy excuses now.

Especially not after finding Norman Osborn.

**xXx**

The automatic doors beeped quite loudly as I stepped into the sterile, white hospital lobby. A stark contrast from that of the grime and filth in the street just a door's width away. Gwen looked up at me from her coffee cup. Her eyes focused on the cut across my face first. She choked down the coffee in her mouth in order to speak. I smiled reassuringly.

"Jesus Christ, Peter!" she gasped, placing the coffee and purse down on the front desk and running towards me. Her index finger traced the laceration gingerly. "What happened?"

"I was walk-" I hissed as her finger nicked a sore post.

She snapped her hand back to her chest, eyes widening in regret. "Oh! I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to!" She was talking fast, obviously very apologetic for the tinge of pain.

I smiled at her apology. "No, don't worry. I walked into a busted brick in the wall." Doing my best embarrassed face, I scratched the back of my head, looking away from her face. "I dropped my phone, too…" I held out the broken piece of plastic and technology in my right hand. That would convince her. I wouldn't break my phone on purpose. I DIDN'T drop my phone on purpose.

"Awww!" She puckered her lips and titled her head. Her eyes flashed open wide with innocence.

Puppy dog face. She was screwing with me.

"Do you at least have my coffee?"

She pointed to her bag on the desk. There were two styrofoam cups side-by-side next to it. One had a faint lipstick mark along the hole in the cap. "Is coffee known to heal wounds?" She smiled. "And cellphones?"

**xXx**

Me and Gwen were headed toward her house in the upper, richer section of Harlem. It resembled that of a suburb with the sound and smell of the city. The buildings, for the most part, were connected. The majority of them built only two or three stories tall of brick or masonry. Their identity was held mainly by the wooden porches erected in front of each home. They had become a stable of upper Harlem, especially near Manhattan. The sidewalks were cleaner than most of Manhattan, streets less empty. I looked up at the street sign beside the intersection. We were approaching Lenox Avenue. Gwen lived on Asher Row. That was two blocks away.

"What'd you get on Mr. Trainer's test on Thursday?" Gwen adjusted the black hairband holding her golden blonde mane away from her face.

"Do you always wear that?" I smiled, just realizing it was a near necessity for her.

"I love this hairband." She beamed, fixing it again to reinforce her point. I laughed lightly at her, shaking my head. We trudged on through the snow-sprinkled sidewalks and brick-built houses of the nineteen-thirties.

I looked over at her out of curiosity and noticed her eyes were remaining very still. Like she was thinking. "Something wrong?" I pressured, taking my right hand out of my jacket pocket to scrape the loose hair from my eyes.

"I'm worried about you." She sighed, eyes dropping to the ground.

I was stunned by the response. "If it's the scar, I told you I just walked into a wall. I don't think anyone's died by walking into a wall…"

"No, no." She shook her head. "It's not that….It's Flash."

God dammit. "Flash? Why? Those rumors aren't true, you know-"

"What rumors?"

"I dunno." I shrugged, looking away from Gwen. "Kong tells me that he has been saying shit since I kicked his ass last week."

"That's what I'm talking about, Peter." She pointed a lone finger at my face, eyes wide.

"What? Kicking his ass?" We turned the corner of Lenox and onto Asher Row. Gwen's house was at the far end of the block.

"Peter, ever since you came back to school you've been…itching for a fight."

"No." I defended.

"Yes!" She was growing tired of this conversation already. I was, too. "It's like you've been wishing for this your whole life and only now you have the chance. Like that burglar inspired you somehow."

"It's more complicated that you think." I sighed, angrily, realizing that without revealing my spider-powers I was destined to lose this argument.

"Yeah. OK." The sarcasm was painfully obvious.

"Look, I don't know what to tell you!" I shrieked out of desperation, my eyes pleading with her's.

She looked into mine, studying my face. "Tell me the truth."

"Truth is…" I'm Spider-Man. Surprise! "I'm tired of Flash. I just…felt like beating him."

"How about something that I don't already know?"

"You're gonna be a pain in the ass about this, aren't you?" I growled.

"Yes I am!" She barked.

"Oh, great. NOW you're angry." Every fiber in my being told me not to piss her off more. Yet, I couldn't help but continue.

"Peter…" She took a deep breath of air, stopping in front of one of the houses. Black roof, brick pattern, rickety, wood porch. Same as every other house. The mailbox had the name 'Stacy' stamped onto it's side. It was Gwen's house. I hadn't even noticed we were here. "I'm asking you, pleading you, to tell me the truth. Not as your friend, as your girlfriend." Her eyes twinkled, begging for an answer.

Tell her. "I-" Come on. "Well…" Do it! "I can't…" Pussy.

She dropped her head, an exasperating breath of air flowing from her lips. "Good night, Peter."

I remained silent, watching her climb the stairs to the front door. My heart was heavy, depressed. I couldn't stand to see her so hurt. The lock on the door snapped back, the door creaking open as Gwen stepped inside. She turned towards me closing the door gently. With only a few inches of space between the door molding and the lock, she looked at me again. The pain gushing from her pale blue eyes. I wanted to say something so bad.

I couldn't.

The door locked into place. The silence of the street only further weighing my heart down. Taking one last breath of air, I turned back toward the curb. Ben's apartment was too far away to walk. I needed a cab. A shriek stabbed the air, alerting the pigeons sitting peacefully on the house next to Gwen's. It was Gwen. I circled around toward the house. Sweat dripping from forehead and onto my fresh cut. I leapt the six steps and onto the porch. Not taking any chances, I kicked out the door, lock breaking. The living room was lit by a single lamp in the center of the room. A single couch beside it, facing the fireplace on my left. . Magazines lay scattered across the light, wood coffee table. The wood floor was recently polished while the stairs on the far right showed their age. Two doors were placed on the far end of the room. The one on the left was the bathroom. The left hid the kitchen. Gwen sat curled up in a ball against the wall next to the kitchen door. My brain relaxed as I saw Gwen was OK. The Goblin hadn't gotten to her.

I ran over to her sobbing frame. Body shaking with tremors. I fell to my right knee, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Gwen. Gwen! What's wrong?"

She lifted her left arm, pointing to the kitchen door. Her tears prevented any words from leaving her mouth. The mascara was running down her face. Her cheeks lined with black tears. I stood up from Gwen slowly and approached the door. A wooden plank creaking under my weight as I advanced toward the kitchen. About a foot from the door, the smell hit me. The smell of burnt food and empty bowels. . I knew what had happened. It was obvious. I just didn't want to face the truth. Not seeing it didn't make it true. I tapped the door open, the hinges squeaking with age. My eyes soaked up the sight. A middle-aged, averagely-built man was positioned in the center of the kitchen, directly under the ceiling fan light. His shadow dominated a large portion of the white, tile floor. His feet suspended inches from the ground, pants dangling from his hips, exposing his boxers. The missing belt wrapped around his neck and ceiling fan, holding him from the ground. A growing pool of blood crawled in many directions from inside his shadow. The food in the stove was burnt and ruined. Smoke pouring out into the kitchen. Fire alarm was ripped from the wall. His shirt was ripped open, blood staining the edges. Carved into his chest was a symbol. One I had seen before, but it was sloppy, messy. Only upon further viewing did I recognize it. A pumpkin. A jack-o-lantern. Blood seeped from the design and down his legs. The excess dripping down onto the floor.

George Stacy, dead by the Goblin, hung in his own kitchen with his belt.

I backed out of the kitchen, the feeling of bile rising in my chest. The sight was bad enough, but the smell made it worse. I twisted my head around towards Gwen. She hadn't moved. Paralyzed by fear and shock. I couldn't blame her. The only reason I wasn't in the same position was because my brain was too busy with its own problems. How much time until The Goblin comes after Gwen?

How much time until Mister Osborn comes after Gwen?


	16. Isolation

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**ISOLATION:**

Gwen stayed home from school today, decided to see a doctor. A therapist. Can't blame her. Ben urged me to do the same. I told him I was OK, needed school to get my mind off it. Besides, this was MJ's first day at Midtown High. I was her only real friend here. She needed me, and with my only two friends out of commission; I needed her.

**xXx**

"locker number is 1966 :) im already there" MJ's text read. I sighed out of disappointment. Locker nineteen sixty-six was near the stairs to the gym on the first floor. No problem with that, but Flash hangs out with his 'buddies' at those stairs. The less of Flash, the better.

I tucked the phone into my jeans pocket while shutting my locker. I figured, if I was lucky, I would be able to make it to MJ's locker and back before Flash arrived. I adjusted my grip on my binders and sped down the hall. The light blue lockers turned into a smear on the wall as my feet hit the dusted, linoleum floor. Up ahead, the hallway intersected with another going the opposite direction. When I was only about twenty feet from the corner, three freshmen, each one not looking in my direction walked casually into my path. I had arrived earlier than usual and the hallways were nearly deserted. Figured I could make a few jaws drop. I jumped over the first kids head and, using the middle kids head, leap-frogged over the third one. I landed softly, still able to continue running. Behind me I heard one kid say 'Holy crap!'

Mission accomplished.

The next hallway was the lockers from fifteen hundred to eighteen hundred. MJ's locker was around the corner at the end of the hallway. This hallway had a few more people than the last and so, I decreased my speed to average high school running speed. The imaginary speed limit sign in my mind told me I couldn't go any faster. Kong and Liz were hanging out by Liz's locker. Probably boyfriend and girlfriend. Would explain all the time together.

As I past Kong, his eyes connected with mine. I felt the need to turn my head out of embarrassment for staring, but he looked back at me with a friendly grin and waved me over. Wasn't quite sure why he did it, but he did. I stopped running and cut across the hallway to Kong.

"Yo, Peter. Could you give me your cellphone number?"

"Wow! Kenny 'King' Kong wants MY number? I think I've died and gone to heaven."

"Don't be an asshole."

"Fine. 555-1962"

With a fat finger he jabbed each number into his phone and entered it. He looked up at me and smiled. "Got it. Thanks."

I smiled back and continued down the hall, waving as I neared the end of this long strip of lockers. Turning the corner, I could see MJ at the far end of the hall, her red hair an instant giveaway. Outside I could hear a bus pull up to the school. Flash lived close to the school, really close. This was probably his bus.

I was too late.

I stopped running, deciding to use the time between me and MJ as a way to plan out the conversation in my head ahead of time. I wanted to get out of her before Flash showed up. She looked over at me and smiled. I waved back, brains working overtime. She adjusted her purse and began to leisurely walk towards me, left shoulder scraping against the lockers.

"Hey!" She smiled, ending her lazy stroll over to me.

"Hey." I replied, more intent on listening for Flash rather than the conversation. "Look, we gotta-"

The door down the hallway swung open, a slow rush of students piling into the painted-brick corridors. The majority of them were wearing heavy coats, a few just wearing sweatshirts. The first of the kids were shorter than me with higher pitched voices. Lower classes. As the hallway filled, the students shoving their way into the school grew in size. Their shoulders broadening, facial hair growing. Upper classes. Nearly all of them were juniors, my age. Being so early in the year, most of us, including me, didn't have a license yet and were still destined to ride the bus to school. Very few, and I mean very few, were seniors. If you were allowed to drive, you drove.

MJ looked back at the flooding halls and back at me. "What?"

"Crap…" Flash barged his way into the school, a clump of four other jocks beside him. "It's too late."

"For what?" She looked back at the doors, most of her body twisting with her head. Her blood-red hair whipping across my face. The fragrance of peach shampoo filling my nostrils. It relaxed me for a second before my eyes locked onto Flash again. I saw Flash notice me, turning towards his pals, laughing and pointing his left index finger at me. MJ noticed, too. "Oh, him…"

"Yeah. Him."

"Should we go?"

"No, no. Let him pass." I sighed. "Running makes it worse." Flash got close, his friends crowding around each other, laughing and pointing more fingers.

"Hey, Parker!" He called, throwing up his arms. "Leave the lady alone. Not every lady is gonna sleep with you for cash!" A roar of laughter. The clap of hands. Flash continued by, not stopping once, still laughing.

I snarled, fists clenching, body beginning to turn towards Flash. MJ grabbed my arm. "No! Don't do it. He's an asshole."

My fingers loosened, teeth retracting. "Yeah, yeah. You're right." I shook my head, smiling gently. "I'm sorry."

"Ah, don't worry about it." She smirked, pulling me into the hallway with her already clasped hand. "You still have to walk me to first period English with Mr. Warren."

**xXx**

The sound of the electronic bell across the loud-speaker lightened my heart, and judging by the rush of feet and the sliding of desks, did the same for others. Mr. Warren's English class was more than just boring. It was brain-puncturing bad. Second period was art, a quiet, more brain-mending kind of period. I think the school purposely structured my schedule that way.

MJ and I waited for the crowd to disperse before heading out ourselves. We were thrust into the commotion of the mid-period commute. The hallway was primarily juniors, a few sophomores. MJ unfolded the piece of pink paper in her pocket. Finger tracing along the tightly printed lettering. Her eyes following not too far behind.

"Uhhh." She moaned, still reading the schedule. "I have…music. Room 420."

Ah, yay. Fourth floor. "OK, cool. Art is just below that."

We didn't make it more than three steps before my phone began to vibrate in my left pocket. I pulled it out quickly, hoping to stop the vibrating. It was actually pretty loud and most of the people nearby could hear it.

"Oh, watch out everybody, Parker's doing business. Don't disturb a self-pimp." Someone yelled out into the crowd. The hallway burst out in laughter. Even some of the sophomore's giggled. MJ placed her hand on my shoulder, a hint for me to relax.

Shrugging it off, I flipped open the phone-Ben's old phone. Ben got a new phone a few weeks ago and, lucky for me, kept the old. It's not the nicest phone and certainly not the quietest, but it works for what it is. The number was from 555-2001. It wasn't Gwen, MJ or Harry; their numbers were pre-programmed into the phone. Out of curiosity, I accepted the text. The digital block-like text appearing on screen in the blink of an eye.

"hey its kong come by room 256"

For some odd reason, this piqued my interest, "Hey, MJ. Could we make a detour?"

"I guess…" I shrugged, looking at my helplessly. "I don't know this school. You didn't have to ask me that. I wouldn't have known." She smiled.

**xXx**

We climbed the single flight of stairs from the first floor to the second. This hallway shared the same white-painted bricks as the rest of the floors, but the lockers bared a dark green, not blue. Only thirty feet to the left of the staircase the hallway collided with one going the opposite direction. Room 256 was only three or four classrooms down the intersecting hall.

"Come on. This way." I began to power-walk down the hall, leaving MJ to catch up. The sound of cheering and yelling emanated from down the branching corridor. It only fueled my curiosity.

"Sounds like a testosterone fest." MJ rolled her eyes at her remark.

"That's Midtown High." I smiled back, not looking at her.

We were about fifteen feet away from the corner when a familiar figure came sliding across the hallway. Flash. His feet scrambling helplessly across the linoleum flooring. Unable to stop, his left shoulder plunged into the locker, body slumping to the floor. He looked up at me in pain, a bruise tracing his right cheek, bottom lip split badly down the center. My eyes were wide, jaw loose. At first, I was stunned to see Flash getting his ass kicked…again. Kong was throwing out the order of things in the school.

Flash looked at his attacked, who was out of sight for us, before curling up in a ball. Kong came running down the hall, his jersey waving in the wind. With a meaty hand, Kong lifted Flash up by the air and bashed it into the lockers. I counted each blow Flash's head took, the sound ringing out down the hallway. His arms flailed in Kong's direction, each one skimming his muscle-bound torso. A teacher charged past me, his body lurching my shoulder forward. Another one fowling hastily behind him. Kong got one punch into Flash's nose before he was tackled by the lead teacher, his feet being swung up into the air as his body went head-over-heels. The hallway shook with trembles from his landing. The teacher holding down his wrists, the one trailing him diving onto Kong's legs.

"I'm done! I'm done!" Kong cried, as the man holding his wrists wrestled Kong onto his chest and dragged him up to his feet. The other releasing his ankles and helping Flash to his feet, blood dripping onto the hallway floor. A few splatters of blood dabbled the teacher's hand. As the teachers dragged Kong toward the main office, Kong twisted his neck back toward me. His blank stare turning into a subtle grin and nod. My face stayed stunned, the nerves in my face unwilling to cooperate with my brain. Out from the crowd I heard someone say 'First Parker, now Kong?'

"Never a slow day at Midtown High, huh?" MJ laughed, moving up beside me.

"Nope." I shook my head. "Never."

**xXx**

I dropped into the leather encased couch with a sigh of relaxation. My backpack lay beside my feet, the weak tip of the bag bending slightly under the weight of gravity. I covered my eyes with my left hand and titled my head towards the ceiling, my feet outstretched as far as they could before hitting the coffee table.

"Long day?" Ben noted, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah." I groaned, not moving from my surprisingly comfortable position.

"Well, I read in the newspaper today that George Stacy's funeral will be held at the New Montefiore Cemetery this Wednesday." Sip of coffee. "It's at one in the afternoon. You can go there instead of school if you want. I assume Gwen would want you to be there."

I sat up, removing my hand from my face. "Yeah, she-" The vibration of my phone stopped me mid-sentence.

"Isn't that the biggest pain in the ass ever?" Ben laughed.

"Yeah. It is." I smiled back, flipping open the phone. Gwen was calling me. "Speak of the devil." I got up from the couch and hit the green 'Send' button on the number-pad. "Hey, Gwen."

"Hey, Peter." Her voice was monotone and flat. Almost zombie-like.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no." She let out an extremely loud sigh, the speaker picking up the excess air and churning into static. "I was hoping you could swing by my house in about an hour and help me pack-up my Dad's stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I can."

"Thanks." Still no emotion. "See you in an hour."

I hung up the phone slowly. I was worried about Gwen. She seemed so distant, so gone. As if everything she ever knew or cared about had disappeared.

"Gwen?" Ben asked, cleaning out his coffee cup in the sink.

"Yeah. I'm heading over in an hour to help her clean some of her Dad's stuff up."

"It'll be rush-hour soon. I advise you get going now."

"Ah, don't worry. I'll make it."

The air doesn't get much traffic after all.

**xXx**

The wind whipped by my face as I cascaded down from my web-line and onto the edge of an apartment building in-between my house and Gwen's. I still had about twenty minutes to make it there. The worst case scenario was that I was about ten minutes late. That didn't make much difference. I dropped from the ledge, my right arm sending out a tether of webbing. Gripping it with both hands, I slowly swung my feet outwards, as if kicking, and propelled myself up into the air. At the top of my swing, I let go, flipping into the air. The sound of screeching wheels and police sirens shot out from the left as I stretched my left arm out for another web-line. Three police cars, sirens blaring, turned the corner sharply. All other cars in the road either stopped to admire the scene or let the officers pass. Fifty feet ahead of the group of cruisers was a pitch-black sedan speeding up ahead. Reflections of street-signs and lamp-posts giving the car a very metallic, multi-colored look.

I threw my next web-line behind me, the change in direction twisting my body sharply towards the chase ahead of me. This thread of webbing was lower on the building than the last ones, and because of this, I ended up swinging only two or three feet above the cars below before arching upwards toward the sky. It gave me the extra speed needed to catch up. Continuing my pursuit, the car ahead opened the sun-roof, a man with a flat-head and nice suit pulling out an old tommy-gun and firing recklessly at the three cop cars nearby.

Hammerhead.

The cop cars began to swerve back and forth to avoid the hail of gun-fire. The lead tire of the middle cruiser burst, the car skidding in multiple directions before diving left into a light-post. The force of the impact cracked the base of the light and sent it hurtling down atop the car, roof indenting immediately. The sirens still blasting, both turning signals lighting up to alert traffic to ignore the crash. Two officers, one from the driver's seat and the other from the passenger seat, emerged from the wreckage unharmed. I swung past, my intention on catching up to Hammerhead.

I had both forgotten and lost any leads on Hammerhead, it was nice to see him reappear so enthusiastic for an ass-kicking. Up ahead, the road made a T at the end of the road where the only two options were left or right. The sedan slammed on the brakes and began to make the right. The car overshot it, its back ramming into the hood of a stopped car in the opposite lane. The crash caused Hammerhead's car to slide back and forth for a second before regaining its ground and speeding behind the buildings to my right.

I came down from my web and onto the roof of the back police car. I was close enough to the car where my landing made no sound. My ability to stick to surfaces helped to stay on top of the cruiser as it made the same wide-turn as Hammerhead did. Pulling onto the new road, the sedan came back into view, moving just as fast as before. The car's sped up, wind chilling my arms and neck. They caught up to Hammerhead, one car on each side. Slowly, they began to push in on each side, barricading him in, preventing him from turning. Hammerhead was smart, I knew that. I also saw the problem in the police's plan. Before Hammerhead could act, I leapt from the police cruiser to the sedan. The even speed between the two cars made it equal to that of a standing jump.

Not even half a second after I landed on the car in pursuit, Hammerhead came to a screeching halt, the two police cars slamming into each other and flying out in opposite directions. The one on the right went hurtling up onto the sidewalk, the lip of the sidewalk lifting the car into the air and into a store window. Glass sprayed the innocence nearby; sound brought the street to a stand-still. The other cop car stopped itself in-between the two lanes and continued left towards Hammerhead. The sedan had already began backing up and was preparing to make a sharp right turn to face the opposite direction.

I crawled down the side of the car, pressing my chest against the it as another car came rushing towards us. When the coast was clear, I continued onto the bottom of it, my back an inch from the skin-shredding pavement. The axle for the front wheels was within reach. I was planning on breaking it, forcing the wheels to stop.

What could go wrong?

My left hand reached out and grasped it, my fingers curling around and touching my palm. With all my strength, I yanked downwards, the axle snapping on the right side by the wheel as opposed to in the center. The wheel flew outwards and into the road. The front of the car on the right side hit the pavement, sparks jumping up and dancing in the late-afternoon light. The orange specks skipping along my face and shoulders. The speed of the sedan combined with the uneven road and missing tire caused the car to swerve sideways. The side with the missing wheel caught a pot-hole in the road, the car flipping up and into the air. I held on, chest against the bottom of the car as it rolled and bounced across the street. The world a spinning blur of colors ahead of me. The horrible sound of screeching metal and broken glass roared out in my ears. The car stopped on its side three spins later and ever so slightly titled onto its roof, leaving me exposed.

I rolled off and onto the street, head spinning, stomach queasy. I pulled myself up onto my knees, my arms shaking uncontrollably. The door on the opposite side of the car broke open. A man, hidden by the car, pulled himself out and ran in the opposite direction of the approaching police lights and sirens. I looked up at the unbroken door as it snapped open. The man's legs came out first, dressed in expensive shoes and clean pants. I rushed over to his struggling frame and ripped him out of the wreckage by the legs. His head was round with combed back, greasy black hair.

Not Hammerhead.

I dropped him onto the ground and peered over the car. Hammerhead wasn't in sight. He was gone.

Angry and still a little dizzy, I picked the crawling man up by the neck. "Where is he?" I growled into his ear.

"Wh-who?" He stammered, shaking violently in my grasp.

"Hammerhead."

"I don't know. He musta ran off!"

"Not good enough. Te-" The cop car came stopped directly behind me, the sirens turning the upside down sedan red-n-blue. The doors opened to the cruiser, a man in his mid-thirties emerged from the passenger seat wearing standard police garb, a woman in higher ranking clothing with long brown hair emerged from the driver's seat. Jean DeWolfe. Both of them pulled pistols out of their holsters and aimed them at the two of us.

"Freeze, Spider-Man!" She ordered, walking towards me, gun extended. "Put the man down on the ground and put your hands above your head!"

"But I-" The man I was holding swung his elbow back into my nose, throwing my body off-guard and allowing him to escape my grasp. His feet hit the ground and pounded away from the three of us. "Bitch!" I cried, as my eyes adjusted from the blow to the face.

"Don't move, Spider-Man!" DeWolfe repeated. "After him, Ray." She titled her head toward the other officer. He nodded and ran past me after the escaping criminal. The crash had hurt him and he was half limping, half running. Ray would catch him in no time.

DeWolfe continued near me, gun still aimed at my head. "I'm the good guy!" I shouted.

"The police are the good guys." DeWolfe shot back.

As she approached I noticed her badge now had the title 'Captain' imprinted on it. "No…" I shook my head. "You're captain?"

"Funny how these things work." By now she had stopped a few feet in front of me. "Turn around, keep your hands in the air."

"Don't do this." I begged.

"Turn. Around."

"Please."

"Now!" She shouted.

"God dammit!" I shouted back, throwing out both my hands, encasing her gun in webbing with one and her eyes with the other.

"My eyes! Jesus, it stings!" She howled, dropping the useless gun to the street and bring both her hands to her eyes. Her arms yanking on the webbing with all her strength. I darted to my left, in the direction of the closest building. At the spot where the pavement met the sidewalk, I jumped up onto the side of it, running up to the roof with both my arms and legs. "Ray! Get him!" DeWolfe demanded from behind my webbing.

"I got him!" Ray assured, firing off two shots in my direction. One hit the window below me, entering the building. The other cracked the bricks to my right. I leapt over the molding around the top of the building as three more bullets soared above me. I moved to the center of the roof to make sure I couldn't be hit by any shots, or seen by DeWolfe and Ray. Catching my breath, I sat against the water-tower next to me.

Nothing there went according to plan. Not that I had a plan. Hammerhead escaped, his partner got away from me without giving me any information, and the police are now full-force after me. Could it get worse? Suddenly, I remembered why I was out in the first place.

Gwen.

I pulled my phone out hoping I wasn't too late.

5:48 PM.

I was supposed to be there almost ten minutes ago. Plus, I had a thirty minute swing still.

I had screwed up. Badly.

**xXx**

I sprinted down the street, lungs working overtime. Gwen's house was in sight. If I could somehow explain it to her, everything would be OK. I hoped it would be OK. Two police cars were parked in front of her house. They would be for a while. The entire police force was scrambling to make ends meet and keep Gwen safe. Having your captain butchered without notice isn't easy to recuperate from. As I got closer, I noticed two officers guarded the door. I assumed the other two were at the back door.

"Name?" The one on the right questioned, taking a step forward.

"Uh, Peter Parker." I answered through heavy breaths, stopping at the top of the steps. "Gwen's expecting me."

"You're a little late…" The one on the left stated.

"Yeah, don't remind me."

I entered the living room, a cool gust of air rushed past my face. Yellow police tape blocked the path to the kitchen. I ignored it and headed for the stairs. Gwen's room was the first one on the right. The last stair creaked as I pulled myself up into the upstairs hallway. It was painted a dark green with a recently vacuumed, grey carpet. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Gwen's door.

It took a few seconds before she swung the door open toward her. She looked at me for a second with no emotion. I smiled at her hoping to get a reaction. Her eyebrows dropped, the edges of her mouth remaining still. "Glad to see you showed up."

"I…I'm sorry." I dropped my head. "I didn't mean to. I-"

"Lost track of time."

"No. I-"

"Got stuck in traffic."

"No! I-"

"Always excuses, Peter!" She turned away from me, leaving her door open. She headed over to her bed and sat down on the striped red-n-white blanket. Her hair slightly pink from the bright painted walls.

I followed her, stepping onto the polished, wood floor. "There was an accident on the way down." I explained. "The cab got stuck…"

"Traffic." Gwen sighed.

"Yeah…I guess." My foot skimmed a cardboard box on the floor of her room. Most likely a box of Stacy's stuff. "I see you already packed up…" Gwen didn't answer. She stared at the wall across from her for a few seconds. As I began to come closer she began to cry. She buried her face into her hands, body shaking with each sniffle. I rushed over to her and placed my arm around her back. She pushed me away. I was stunned. "What's wrong?"

"Leave." She demanded, not looking at me.

"Leave? Why?"

"Leave!" She screamed, facing me. Her teeth pressing against each other, tears tracing the shape of her face.

I got up and headed towards the door backwards. "I didn't mean to be late!"

"I don't give a shit, Peter!" I left the room and entered the hall. She placed her hand on the door. "It's always excuses with you."

"There was nothing I could do about it!"

"I can't trust you! If I can't trust you who CAN I trust?"

She was hysteric; she wasn't the same Gwen I knew. "It won't happen again. I promise."

She looked at me for a few seconds, face stern and angry. "You're right." She sighed. "We're through."

And she slammed the door in my face. Leaving me broken-hearted and helpless in the hallway. My legs began to shake and I found that I couldn't remove my eyes from her door.

Gwen Stacy had broken up with me.

I needed to do something. I couldn't end it like this. Even if she didn't take me back, I needed her to understand. I knew the risk in what I was about to do, but I didn't care.

It was necessary.

**xXx**

I landed quietly on the roof of Gwen's home, making sure the police didn't see me. To them, I was just as bad as The Goblin. It angered me to think that I was on the same level as that bastard to these idiots. Still, I continued along the roof, crawling on my hands and feet to avoid detection. I reached the gutter and looked over. Gwen's window. I swung my body over the gutter and on the wall with the window. Her blinds were almost fully down, exposing just about an inch and a half of her room.

I was gonna unmask in front of her. I was gonna show her my one true excuse. I was gonna make her understand. This would probably be my last time at the Stacy home. I needed to make it count. I peered through the open space of the window at Gwen. She sat in the same spot she did when she yelled at me ten minutes ago. An open box lay astray on the bed to her left. She was examining her father's old standard police outfit. Looking at her changed something in me. Her god-like hair flowed from her head, her beautiful, blue eyes glittering with pain. The slender shape of her body slouched on her bed.

Gwen had become isolated. She had thrown the rest of the world out the window when her Dad died. I couldn't stand to see her like that. She already didn't trust me. Her finding out I was keeping this secret all those months would only destroy her more. Even if it didn't, she would have to worry about my safety every waking moment. And what if she blamed me for not stopping The Goblin? What if it made her hate me more? Her knowing wasn't a solution. It was a problem.

I couldn't hurt her anymore. I loved her too much to bestow this responsibility on her.

I climbed back up the house and onto the roof. I had lost Gwen. It felt terrible, but hurting her more would destroy me. I ripped the mask off my face and wept. I stayed there for almost an hour.

I needed to make this one last time at her house count.

That's what I did.


	17. Life as it is

_NOTE: Sorry about the long paragraphs. Action is so dull when you put it into quick sentences…._

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**LIFE AS IT IS:**

4:38 PM

The Daily Bugle. The cities leading source of news. I hated nearly everything about this place. I hated its putrid smell, its lack of creative design and most of all; it's boss. Before heading into his office, I looked through the pictures I had taken before school today. They were simple pictures cursed with crappy quality from my cheap Kodak camera. I knew Jameson wouldn't like them, but I needed money.

"Crap…utter crap…shit…oh?" A good one? "No, wait. More shit." Dammit.

"Am I still getting paid?" I questioned, a small shred of hope that I was getting any money from these shots.

He glared at me from across his desk, furrowing his brow. "You're a kid. Why do you need money?"

What an asshole. "It's nice to save."

"Save?" He spat at the thought. "Boy, when I was your age, I invested every dollar I had into this place."

The paint on the wall was nearly gone from chipping, ceiling had received major water damage and the floor was hollowed out from termites. "Didn't have much money, did you?"

Jonah's face tightened, a blood vessel popping out of his left temple. The wrinkles in-between his eyebrows became more prominent. I looked upon his reddening face, indecisive on how to react to his upcoming outburst. I noticed the muscles in his throat begin to contract and swell, the words gathering in his throat. He leapt up from his chair and onto his feet. His fists pounded the desk.

"DO YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY TO SHIT ALL OVER MY LIFE? DO YOU? GET OUT!" His mouth extended far behind normal length with each ear-deafening word. His right arm swung to the side sending pencils and paper across the office. He looked down at my pictures. "And take your fucking pictures with you!" He tossed the lamented sheets of paper in my direction, each one swaying side-to-side as they scattered around my feet. He dropped back into his chair, taking a deep breath and burying his face into hands. "I need some snort."

Took it better than expected.

The door behind me swung open, the broken hinge snapping upon usage. Robbie entered through the room, confusing gracing his face. "I heard yelling."

Jonah remained quiet, so I spoke up. "I sort of criticized the Bugle."

"And…?"

"He didn't like it." I bent down to pick up the photos, the pictures warm and slick between my fingers.

Robbie's eyes locked onto them as I tucked them under my armpit. "Whoa! What they hell are these?" He rushed over, gently sliding a picture out from between my ribcage and bicep.

His eyes traced the picture very carefully, no emotion escaping his face. "Uh, those are-" I began, slowly straightening myself out.

He ignored me. "Jonah!"

He picked his head up from his hands. "Yes?" He moaned, lowering his eyes.

"You told me this kid was getting you pictures of ducks."

"He was." He leaned back in the chair, throwing his arms behind his head.

"These ducks look a helluva lot like Spider-Man…"

"I don't see it…"

Robbie rolled his eyes, exhausted with Jonah's idiocy. Instead, he faced me, the picture still in his hands. "How long have you been getting Jonah pictures?"

"Few months."

"Has he paid you?"

"'Paid' being a relative term."

He snorted, holding my picture out in front of me. I grabbed it with my free hand as he placed his right arm on my shoulder, and smiled reassuringly. "Look, whenever you have some picture of this Spider-Man guy, bring them to me first. I'll tell you which ones to send to Jonah. If I'm wrong, just get Betty to call me up and I'll talk with him."

Wow. I had a friend at The Bugle. Other than Ben. "Thanks, Robbie. I will."

The door opened again, Betty bursting through and running over to Robbie. Her face was frozen in fear, all color drained from it.

"Betty? What's wrong?" Robbie questioned, left eyebrow slightly raised. She stood on her tip-toes to reach Robbie's ear. Robbie nodded once before taking on the same expression as Betty. She dropped to her heels, biting her lower lip, arms pulled into her chest. Robbie sighed, turning toward me. My heart began to drum faster. Unlike Stacy's death, I didn't have a clue what had happened. "Peter…I think we need to talk…"

**xXx**

6:13 PM.

The old abandoned carnival. A dilapidated place of old memories and twisted scenery. It stands as a lone island off the coast of Manhattan. Its gothic architecture and broken frame a staple of the old sixties amusement park. It was closed in the mid-seventies after a young boy was molested and killed there by the owner. Since then it's fallen under the law of the pushers and junkies, Coney Island becoming the leading source of amusement. Typically it's the cities leading meth lab and squatter home. A safe haven from the tortures of society on those with nowhere to go, either mentally or physically.

Now? Now it's The Goblin's new personal hell. He's outfitted these low-lifes with military grade weapons and ammunition. Each one wearing a pumpkin-shaped helmet to signify their allegiance to the bastard himself. They're on look out. For me. They know I'm coming.

They know I'm here for Ben.

**xXx**

The cop car lit up in a passion of fire and heat. The bright blue and red sirens screaming across the night sky. The officers took cover behind their respective cars, pistols in hand. They had dispatched for SWAT mere minutes ago and were sitting tight until their arrival.

The crack of gunpowder broke the waning silence as a sniper bullet drove its way into the windshield of the middle of the three cruisers. The cops dove for cover, hiding behind the cars. I had been able to watch over the scene from a nearby buoy halfway between the main-land and 'Family Land.' I rested atop its point, observing the island. The restaurants were along the docks, their flat roofs perfect for a man to set-up cover and stakeout. That's just what The Goblin's men did. They used abandoned wood from the rides to make cover up on the restaurant tops. The two lead buildings hosted men with machine guns. One of these men had traded his rifle for a grenade launcher which he used to destroy the car. Nice shot, too. It was easily three hundred feet of water between him and the car. Five men with shotguns and pistols patrolled the ground. Two sat at a table having a smoke. Thirty feet behind them stood a guard tower. Originally used for the security to watch over the eating area, a sniper now lay, scoping out the area. If I was to get anywhere, I would need to take him out.

Three more buoys led me to the docks of the island. Only one of them was standing still, the waves rippling up and crashing into the posts. Using the majority of my strength, I dove towards the pier. The force from my jump sinking the buoy under the river before it popped back up. My jump didn't get me to the pier, but it didn't have to. I sent a web-line to the wooden runway and used it as a zip-line, my body soaring across the water and into the dock. I rolled into the dock in order to lessen both the damage on my body and the sound. None of the men had night-vision which meant their worthless flashlights couldn't see me from this distance. I was still hidden underneath the cloak of night.

Making my way down the pier, I could hear the man on the closest restaurant cough a few times and drop his gun. Curious, I jumped onto the side of the building and crawled along the edge to the left side of the guard. Splinters broke away from my hands and feet as I shuffled quietly up to the roof. I peeked my eyes above the edge and examined the coughing man. The cough was wet and moist, like someone blowing through a used straw. Most likely smoker's lung. He rested his gun against the cover in order to pull out a water bottle from the ammo crate beside him. He had dropped to one knee in order to stay hidden behind the cover which came up to about the middle of his chest. I figured he would benefit from losing his fire-arm.

I wrapped the AK-47 in webbing and pulled it towards me, making sure it didn't slide across the ground. I caught it with my right hand, my left still gripping the building to help me stay upright. Turning around to face my chest to the water, I hit the ammo-lock switch, the metal casing falling from the rifle and into my left hand. I threw both into the river; watching the water surround them, destroy them. Within seconds, they had sunk out of sight. I dropped back to the ground and continued to make my way over to the sniper's nest. Not knowing the current positions of the ground patrol, I pressed my back up against the same restaurant, peeking around the corner just in case. I snapped my head back into place as I noticed that a man with a shotgun was strolling over toward me, flashlight taped to the bottom of the gun. It was a normal walk, just a patrol. He wasn't alerted yet. I decided to wait for him to come to me, leaping out and attacking him would only end in disaster. I used the sound of his footsteps as a way to judge his distance. Every once in a while, I lost track because of the coughing dog above.

Soon, he was within feet of me, his body swaying as he whistled a song to himself. When he was two feet from the corner of the building, I swung my arms around, latching onto his chest. He inhaled suddenly at the sight of my arms. Before he could yell, I brought my arms back, swinging his head into the wall on my right. The impact knocked him unconscious instantly, shotgun cascading to the dirt-covered planks. I kicked the shotgun up off the ground and into the air above the water. Same as the AK-47, it was engulfed by the waves and swallowed up. Just to be safe, I peered around the corner one more time, the two men at the rickety wood table were still enjoying their cigarettes and the only other man in sight seemed perfectly fine.

I dashed towards the next building, the sniper tower only twenty feet from the opposite side. Behind the watch-tower was the entrance to the park, a huge mansion covering up the rides and fun that were associated with 'Family Land.' Camping out on the roof above me was another guard. Unlike the first one, he didn't fall into a fit of coughing, so I couldn't attack him without having a bullet in my brain from the sniper nearby. I did the same as the last corner and peered around carefully. No one was in sight, just a clear path to the thirty-five foot tower. Problem was it was in plain-sight, two lamp-posts on either side to illuminate its base and the area around it. I couldn't run over and scale the ladder without being seen. I had to be creative. I raised my eyes to the top of the tower, half-walls surrounded the sniper, his gun propped up on the one in front to adjust the recoil. The back of the tower was open to allow people going up the ladder to actually get in. An idea exploded into my mind, a slight grin forming from underneath my mask. I used my webbing to zip-line myself up onto the top of the tower. There were no lights that high up, so I was still in the dark. Taking a few deep breaths, I planned out the idea in my head one last time. It seemed like it would work as long as I didn't screw it up. With one last breath, I began.

I leapt backward, flipping in the same direction to slightly slow down my fall. My chest was only facing the ground as I neared the opening in the sniper's box. Using both hands, I attached my webbing to the posts on either side of the sniper. I pulled myself in with them, completing my flip, legs extended. Both feet drove into the sniper's back, his chest slammed up against the cover in front of him. His sniper was snapped backwards as his chest hit the butt of the rifle. I snatched it out of the air with my right arm, making sure it didn't land and attract unwanted attention. Feeling good about my execution, I scanned the area to make sure I was OK. No one had noticed.

I wasn't on the hunt for criminal scum tonight, I was looking for Ben. He was somewhere in this corpse of an island, and I was going to find him.

**xXx**

I kicked down the door, hinges snapping in half. The door bent inwards from the impact of my kick.

"Ben? Ben!" No answer.

It was the abandoned employee lounge. Dusty lounge chairs and rotting, wood tables littered the single room building, only visible from the shed of moonlight emanating from the open doorway. Frustrated I turned around to the last building on the island I had yet to check for Ben.

The Hall of Mirrors.

There it stood, bathing in the night air, cobwebs and all. It seemed to have jumped straight from the pages of an old horror movie. Lack of color and all. I didn't want to go in. Hell, I didn't want to be on the island at all. I could be watching TV, studying, or, dare I say it, patching things up with Gwen best I could. But no, here I was, staring into The Goblin's haunting trap.

The Hall of Mirrors was placed atop two sets of six stairs. I approached the building quickly, wasting no time in finding Ben.

That was my first mistake.

As I took my first step up the stairs, I could feel my foot tug on something. A trip wire. By the time my spider-sense warned me, it was too late. The wire snapped down the middle, the wooden awning over the door to the Hall of Mirrors swung open. Several of The Goblin's pumpkin bombs rolled out of the awning, fuses blazing, faces laughing at my misfortune. I dove backwards, towards the employee lounge, tucking my knees in to avoid my feet being ripped from my body.

The explosion took off, a wave of heat taking over my body as the flames leapt from the stairs. God, it felt like an earthquake. My head went numb, ears buzzing. My body accelerated in speed, my back crashing into the wall of the employee lounge. I winced as I picked myself up off the floor, observing the damage. The stairs had been blown to pieces, a gaping whole left in its place. The flying wood had cut up my costume pretty badly, feet singed to a pitch-black.

"God, Ben better be in this God damn building." I moaned to myself before zip-lining my way up to the door with my web.

**xXx**

The inside of the building was no better than the outside. Old cobwebs and dust hung from the ceiling, wallpaper torn from the walls. There was no light to speak of as all the windows had been boarded up long ago, so I was relying on my limited vision from my spider-sense. I began down the thin hallway, tapping the floor gently with each step to make sure not to set off another trap.

As I passed by the first mirror, the lights jumped to life, the sudden change in lighting burning my eyes. The loud speaker cackled to life as my eyes were adjusting.

"Welcome, Spider-Man." The Goblin greeted. "Glad to see you made it." The mirrors had become fully visible now, my various 'clones' coming to life. Felt like an awkward family reunion. I walked briskly towards the still darkened section of the hallway, trying my best to ignore both The Goblin and the multiple incarnations of me. "You're a tough little bastard to kill. I hope you realize that."

"Where's Ben?" I called back, making sure he could hear me.

"In due time. Right now, let's focus on your future. Specifically, your funeral plans."

The mirrors behind me began to explode, the walls caving in around them. I bolted down the hallway, broken glass and crumbling drywall surrounding me. My enhanced speed gave me a slight advantage over the danger behind me, but that didn't calm me. My mind screamed to move faster, but I couldn't. My lungs were working overtime, feet slapping the wooden floor as quickly as they could. I ran into the darkened area, praying there were no more mirrors. I ran face-first into a wall. Curled up in a ball, I continued to pray, the explosion rapidly catching up to me.

Boom! Please, God. Boom! Please. Boom! Please! Boom! PLEASE!

And they stopped. I peered over my shoulder; the ceiling had come down, exposing the night sky. I let out a sigh of relief, body loosening at the hinges. Just as the hallway, the lights came back on, the loud speaker reactivated. The new room was a large circle, windows to darkness lined the walls.

"Very lucky, Mr. Parker."

I decided to play my one card. "I know your secret. I know you're Norman Osborn!"

The Goblin slightly shocked. "Very perceptive. For your good work, I will give you your prize." The lights in window behind me lit up, revealing Ben, beaten and battered tied to a chair on the other side. "Only after you complete my test." The other lights went on, the contents of each room revealed to me: Ben.

"What the hell…?" My mouth dropped, brain unable to contemplate what was going on.

"Now…" The Goblin took a deep breath. "I know this is a little overwhelming, but it really is quite simple. One of these rooms has the real Ben. The others are just projections of the real one." I pressed my face against each window, hoping to see any evidence of one of them being fake. They were too far away for me to tell. "Before you go breaking all these windows, let me warn you. If you break the glass with a projector behind it, the room will explode. Have fun." And with that, the speaker shut down.

I placed my hands over my head. Today was not going as planned. I continued to press my face up against each window, just to see if I could eliminate any of them from the running. Ben was tied and bound by the arms, legs and mouth, no way to help me. The Goblin hadn't said if they were prerecorded projections or live, so I spent a large portion of my time trying to notice patterns.

Ben's breathing became very loud. I began to fear for his health. "Ben? Ben! Are you OK? Tell me-" Then it hit me. I started listening to his breathing.

One. Two. Three. Break. One. Two. Three. Break.

Three. That was the magic number. I assumed he meant three spaces from the first mirror that lit up. Now, left or right? I went to the left first, prepping my fist. He took two breaths. Usually that meant 'yes', so I sent my fist hurling through the mirror. The Ben in front of me was three dimensional. I breathed a sigh of relief and ran over to him.

"God, are you OK?" I dropped to my knee, tearing the ropes off.

"Yeah, I think my right leg is broken so you're gonna have to carry me out of here right now!"

"OK, OK. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Now!"

He was in a rush. "Why?"

"These bombs are timed! That's why I didn't just scream when you in front of the wrong mirror. Needed to save time. Let's go!"

I hoisted Ben up, legs bent over my right arm, left arm holding his body up, and raced back to the hole in the ceiling. I used the crumbled wall as a stepping stone and leapt up through the wall. Walking across the roof, my spider-sense raced up my neck and burned the back of my head. The bombs within the 'window room' went off, but the explosion was larger than anticipated, the fire crawling towards us. I jumped away from the fire, landing on the employee lounge.

"Jesus Christ!" I gasped, setting Ben down on the roof.

"Yeah, I sort of forgot to tell you that he drenched the building in gasoline…"

I looked back at the Hall of Mirrors. The roof had been set aflame, the fire showing no sign of dying down. "How could you forget to tell me that?"

"I was in a rush!" I shook my head, breathing in a mouth-full of fresh air. The fire was warm and soothing, the comfort a welcomed feeling compared to the constant fear I had been experiencing that past half hour. "Could you bring me to a hospital?" Ben interrupted my meditation.

I picked Ben back up, heading for the docks opposite the entrance. Walking away I could've sworn I heard The Goblin's laugh resenating from the chilling night sky.

I was gonna find him. And when I did, I was gonna make sure he didn't fuck with me again.


	18. Embrace

_NOTE: Be sure to keep an eye out for a new story I'll be putting up soon. There will be an explanation to go along with it. Thanks and enjoy!_

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**EMBRACE:**

I scribbled furiously at the paper, pencil shavings dusting the immediate area. I nervously glanced at the clock beside my bed, rubbing my eyes to keep them open.

6:12 AM

Good, I still had time. Last night's adventure had put me back on homework and had exhausted the last of my energy. With fifteen minutes to spare and half a sheet left, I was on the right track. Feeling slightly more confident, I put pen to paper and continued.

A light clicking got closer to the door. On any given day, I would be confused, but Ben's broken leg limited him to crutches. The tapping stopped right outside my door, the knob turning and being pushed towards me. Ben stood there, hobbling around to face me on his crutches, right leg being used as a focal point.

"Morning." I greeted, tearing my eyes away from my homework to look him over.

"Hey, pal. Sleep well?"

No. "Yeah. I guess."

He twisted his body so that his right side was facing me. "Come into the kitchen, we'll take there." He hopped off to the kitchen, leaving me to follow.

I opened my mouth to say I needed to finish homework, but decided I could finish it during school. "OK, be there in a second."

I closed the notebook and put it in my backpack with the pencil. The use of energy to pick myself up off the chair made me yawn uncontrollably. I needed to get more sleep. Trials of being a full-time superhero and a full-time student.

**xXx**

Ben was 'making' cereal. Not that there is a lot of preparation in cereal, but there isn't much you can prepare with crutches. The way he hobbled around while pouring milk made me smile.

Ben noticed. "What?"

"Nothing." I scratched my upper lip to hide my smile.

"Lemme break your leg and see how you move." I ignored him and took my seat at the island counter closest to me. He slid a bowl of Cornflakes in my direction. Aside from the occasional 'crunch' from either me or Ben, the apartment stayed relatively quiet. "Hey, sorry about the whole 'calling-you-at-one-in-the-morning-to-come-get-me-at-the-hospital' thing…" Ben smile, not looking at me.

"Oh, no problem…and thanks for the whole 'taking-me-in-when-my-aunt-and-uncle-were-brutally-murdered' thing…"

Ben's smile dropped from his face. I regretted saying it instantly, but it needed to be said. We continued eating in silence, the awkward tension like a thick cloud of fog around the two of us. Ben took a deep breath and changed the subject, much to be pleasure. "So how are things with Gwen…ya know, with her father and everything. Times must be hard on her."

I hadn't told anyone about Gwen breaking up with me just a few days earlier. It wasn't exactly the most ego-boosting event of my life, and if Flash ever found out I wouldn't hear the end of it. A nerd being dumped by a nerd wasn't exactly ignorable news. "Uh…yeah. Me and Gwen broke up." The look on Ben's face was of complete shock. "There were some…misunderstandings…"

"With her Dad?"

"Kinda."

"Death isn't easy, Peter. You should have seen yourself the first few weeks you were here. You were always tired, depressed and never felt like eating. I almost called a psychiatrist."

"Really?" I hadn't noticed how bad I must have been.

"Yeah, but you began to come back around within a few months. I'm betting Gwen will do the same."

"Yeah, I guess…" I still wasn't sold on Gwen coming back around and it made me sound like a hypocrite, but I couldn't help but feel like Gwen was beginning to push me away before her Dad died. Maybe Spider-Man had altered my social life…?

Ben placed his empty bowl in the sink behind him and hopped over to me. I kept my eyes trained on the remains of my breakfast, my sleep-deprived body not quite in the mood for food. Ben placed his hand on my shoulder and patted it lightly. "C'mon, you're gonna be late for school."

**xXx**

7:01 AM

Day Two of being friend-less in school. Though, by this point, me and MJ were relatively close enough to be considered friends. I entered the school through the side, where the buses unload. MJ's locker was only a few feet from that door. I figured I would get the 'drop' on her. Entering the school, I scanned the hallway for MJ.

She wasn't there.

I checked my phone for the time again, making sure I hadn't shown up too soon.

7:02 AM

Nope, perfect timing. I wasn't the one late. I decided to stay at her locker. I had to do my homework anyway.

I pressed my back against the wall and slid to the ground, my knees easily buckling under my weight. I pulled out my homework, the hum of a bus arriving to the school outside. I dabbed the paper with the top of my pencil, eyes scanning the sheet of paper for the answer I left off on. My eyes began to feel heavy, eyelids giving out on me. The pounding of feet on the parking lot outside was like a lullaby to my ears and I found myself unable to keep my eye-sight from going dark.

**xXx**

The school bell rang, the alarm positioned directly above me. My eyelids pulled back, brain trying to make connections above the scream of the bell. I looked side-to-side, trying to establish a safe ground. After a few moments, I realized I was in the hallway, next to MJ's locker. Aside from one person who was sprinting down the hall to my left, there was no one in the hallway. My homework lay across my lap, untouched. I had fallen asleep. That meant MJ hadn't showed. She would've at least woken me up. Something by fellow classmates failed to do.

I pulled myself to my feet homework and pencil sliding off my lap, the paper swaying gracefully in the air. I ignore the sheets of paper, now scattered across the hallway, and yawned, stretching my back out in the process. I checked my phone for the time and to see if Mary Jane has sent me a notice of her absence. The time read "7:37 AM"; no missed messages or calls accompanied it. Figuring I was already late enough for class as it was, I gathered up my homework and headed to class, dreading the oncoming lecture for my tardiness.

Guess there's a first time for everything...

**xXx**

2:34 PM

I burst through the front door of the apartment building, using my right hand to swing the door shut quickly behind me. It was still early January and the blistering cold was not helping the already crappy couple of months I've had. The apartment lobby was a comfortable seventy-eight degrees, the few residents within it wearing light clothing; a stark contrast to the double sweatshirt look I was pulling off at the moment. The lobby warmed me quite a bit and put me in a noticeable better mood. I headed towards the door, still rubbing my hands together to create friction, despite my rising body temperature. About fifteen feet from the stairs, I was stopped by a familiar face racing down the stairs before cutting left towards the public bathrooms.

It was MJ.

I figured this was as good of a time as ever to ask her why she ditched me without so much as a text to explain herself. I stopped my assault for the stairs and headed for the girls bathroom. There were only two people in the lobby, neither of them looking in my direction, and the front desk clerk was oddly absent, so I had no reason to worry about entering the bathroom. I pushed open the door slowly at first, making sure I didn't catch anyone with their pants down before realizing the female bathrooms don't have, or need, urinals. Ignoring my stupidity, I forced my way into the crowded room, and shut the door behind me. The farthest stall from the door was closed, a stifled whine coming from it. I walked over slowly, unzipping the first sweatshirt as the heat began to get to me.

I knocked on the three times in rapid succession, Mary Jane's startled voice answering me. "Oc-occupied…sor-sorry." She stuttered through sniffling moans.

"It's me." I sighed, slightly embarrassed by my presence in the girl's bathroom.

"Peter?" Her voice became slightly more natural. "What the hell are you doing in the girl's bathroom?"

"I…well, looking for you."

"How romantic…" She sighed.

I laughed at the situation. "Yeah…"

"Why are you really here?"

"No, I'm serious. I wanted to talk to you."

"Can it wait? I'm sorta IN the bathroom."

I took a few steps back, placing my back up against the wall, and titled my head to look beneath the stall door. "You know, when people go to the bathroom…they usually pull their pants down."

"I-uh..well…" There was the sound of crumbling clothing and quickened breaths for a few seconds before one last, depressed sigh. "Shit."

"Can I come in?" I asked, shyly.

"Why the hell not?" MJ sighed, again, unlocking the stall for me.

I walked in slowly, uncomfortable that I was both in the girls bathroom and about to engage in conversation in the bathroom. Mary Jane's head was faced slightly towards the wall to her right, hiding the right side of her face from sight. "Why are you hiding your face…?" She didn't answer at first, just continued to stare at the far right corner of the stall. I opened my mouth to ask if something was wrong, but was stunned speechless when she turned her head.

A bruise, about the size of my fist covered her cheek.

"What the hell…?" I gasped, stopping in my tracks, not sure of what to do. "What happened?"

"Hit in the face by a pigeon." She refused to make eye contact with me.

"Deadly bastards." She smiled at my joke, showing her teeth, but I didn't come for a smile. "What really happened?"

We sat in silence as I waited for her answer. I heard the sniffle of the lobby clerk outside the bathroom door. My mind began to secretly squander up excuses for me being in the girl's bathroom, but I figured that could wait until after I sorted things out with MJ.

"Nothing." She finally look me in the eyes, and saw that I didn't believe her. "Really."

My heart leapt out of my chest as I suddenly recalled the awkward conversation with Max. I knelt down besides her, staring her in the face even as she looked away.

_"Her Dad hits her…a lot."_

"Your Dad did this…didn't he?"

"I-" Her throat closed up on her, tears filling her eyes. She looked up at me. The pain in her face was overwhelming.

"MJ…" I started, unable to finish my thought. She used the silence to fall into me, her face buried into my shoulder. I slowly wrapped my arms around her, stunned by how quickly her emotion changed. Her body wretched with each sob, my sweatshirt soaking up her tears. I patted her back, still weighing the situation in my head. As much I wanted to hold her, as much as it made ME feel good, I still needed to help her. I put my arms on her shoulders and gently pushed her away from me. Getting the hint, she slowly pulled herself together and looked me in the eyes. Her mascara ran down her face, hair unkempt and frazzled. She looked like a mess. It hurt me to see her like this.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confused as to why I pushed her off.

"THIS is wrong." I said, coldly.

"Oh…oh, I'm sorry." To my surprise, she picked herself up, wiping her eyes and fixing her hair. "I forgot you were with Gwen…"

I stood up with her. "No, I'm not. Not anymore."

"Oh! I'm so sorry…"

"Forget it. You and your Dad: it's not right. Something needs to be done."

"No! No. Don't." Her face froze in shock, nails digging into my shoulders as he pinned me up against the stall. "It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I shouldn't have thrown that party. I shouldn't have stolen his beer. I should have listened to him! I know he likes his beer. I was-"

"MJ!" I grabbed her shoulders, breaking her from her trance. "Forget what you did. This is wrong. I'm calling the cops."

"No! Please. Don't. It's doesn't happen often. Once every few months, I swear."

I wasn't understanding her here. She wanted to protect her Dad, despite her own health. "He's hurting you! Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because he's my Dad. I can't lose him, not since I lost my Mom…"

Deep down I wanted to tell her she should be grateful. I lost my parents AND my aunt and uncle, all she lost was her mom. But loss is loss, and MJ was seriously hurting, and she trusted me. I couldn't betray her. "Fine…fine. I won't tell anyone, I swear."

"Thank you!" She hugged me again, sighing out of relief. "Let's get out of here." He collected herself once again, fixing her hair and wiping her face with toilet paper. I followed her as she headed for the door. She stopped abruptly, turning towards me. "Why did you come here for real?"

"For you." I smiled. "I wasn't kidding. I wanted to see why you ditched me at school today."

"Oh. I'm sorry… I never quite had the chance…"

"Don't worry about. Let's just not bring this up again. OK?"

"Deal."

We exited the bathroom and into the lobby. The receptionist didn't notice me, and the handful of people gathered in the lobby where too busy with themselves to concentrate on me. Good thing, too. I hadn't thought of an excuse.

**xXx**

We stopped outside MJ's apartment, the long flight up the stairs hadn't taken its toll on me this time. I suppose I was too concentrated on MJ's personal problems to care.

"Thanks again, Peter…for everything."

"Don't worry about it." I reassured her with a smile and a nod of the head.

"You're a great guy… Gwen doesn't know what's she's missing."

I really wish I hadn't brought this up. It was like opening a fresh wound. "Thanks."

She unlocked the door to the apartment and I watched as she stepped into the darkness, smiling as she shut the door behind her. I ran my hands through my hair, trying to keep myself composed despite all the crap I had to go through. I promised MJ I wouldn't get involved. I told her I wouldn't tell anyone. And I was going to keep that promise.

Spider-Man is a different story.

**xXx**

As I pulled the mask over my head, I took a quick glance at the clock beside my bed.

12:36 AM

Ben had gone to bed about an hour ago; he should be fast asleep by now. Plenty of time to have a chat with Mary Jane's father.

I slid the window open slowly, hoping to limit the amount of sound produced. The night air froze me in place, bits of snow swaying around me as the wind picked up. I couldn't let too much snow in my room, for obvious reasons, and so I pulled myself out the window faster than I wanted to, freezing my body more than before. My right hand gripped the portion of the brick wall below my window as I spun my body around, my feet sticking to the wall, as well. With my left hand, I slowly closed the window again and took a deep breath, my body slowly adjusting to the considerably colder temperature.

I trudged on, twisting my body ninety degrees to the right, and scaled the apartment wall towards MJ's place. Upon reaching it, I pulled my eyes up above the window sill, making sure no one was on the other side of the window. It was the bathroom. The lights were off and the door was closed. Once again, I opened the window and pulled myself into the apartment. Only after closing the window did the stench reach me. It was a vial, acidic smell that burned my nose and made me hold my breath. The toilet was full of puke. It was barely puke, really. Just pure liquid, as if someone had nothing but alcohol to eat and drink that day. I almost thought of leaving the apartment and letting MJ's father die of alcohol poisoning to solve her problem.

At the door, I dropped my stature to a crouch. If anyone was in the room on the other side, I would be out of sight for a few moments, at least. The door creaked as I subtly pushed it open, my heart jumping at the unexpected sound. Luckily, there was no one in the hallway, and I squeezed my way past the half open door. The hallway was pitch-black, as well, a thin stretch of carpeting leading me to the kitchen. I was thankful for the carpeting as it was much easier to sneak around with a soft surface beneath me. Instead of heading for the kitchen, I turned out and entered the first door on the right of the hallway.

It was a bedroom. The bed was horribly unkempt, old food, bottles and wrappers littering the floor and furniture. The room smelled of rotten food and mold. The room was bland in taste: white walls and wood flooring as far as the eye could see. It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that this was not MJ's room and that the other door, at the end of the hallway, was hers. I left the bedroom with pleasure, saving my nostrils from another beating. A faint sound pierced my ears from the right, towards the kitchen. It was laughter, but it was robotic, fake. A laugh track. The TV in the living room was probably on. I cursed at myself for not arriving later to avoid catching Mary Jane's father awake. Still, I decided to check the living room, anyway. There was always the possibility that he was asleep, more so with his system just recently emptied of booze.

I crossed the kitchen and pressed my chest up against the wall beside the arch leading from the kitchen to the living room. I lowered myself down to a crouch and slid my head around the corner. The TV was facing me, its light blinding me as I looked at it. I covered most of the light with my left arm and slowly pushed my head forward to see if anyone was in the room. My breath was caught short as I captured the image of MJ's father sitting on the couch, facing the TV. I couldn't take my eyes away, the sudden shock freezing me in place. It took me a few seconds to realize he couldn't see me anyway.

He was passed out.

I stood up, laughing to myself at my reaction to Mary Jane's father, and tip-toed into the living room. The wall to the right of MJ's father had three windows. I snuck past TV, my shadow being cast upon Mary Jane's father. I opened the far right window, the one in-line with the passed out man on the couch. The rush of cold air was just as unpleasant as before. I would have to do this quick as to not wake up MJ's father faster than I wished. Hoping my accuracy was as good as I hoped, I grabbed MJ's father by the collar and launched him towards the window. He awoke mid-flight, not yet screaming. His voice rang out as he realized where he was: seven stories above the ground, with no support. He continued to scream even as I followed closely behind, catching him by the right leg with my right hand, my left pressed up against the brick wall of the apartment building. His wails continued, despite the fact that neither of us were moving anywhere.

I lifted my right arm up as high as it could go, bring his face closer to mine. "Stop crying."

"What the hell is going on?" He squealed, eyes concentrated on the ground.

"I know about you and your daughter." I snarled, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him up to my eye level.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" He began to gather a steady ground now that he was upright. I was gonna change that. I let him go, his body plummeting towards the street below. His cries were shrill and full of fear. He reached the fourth floor before I snagged him by the back with webbing, his body hanging limply from my web strand.

I reeled him in, his whimpering becoming more audible as he came closer. "Wh-whatya wa-want?"

"What I want is for you to leave your daughter alone. If I find out you even lay a finger on her, I don't know if I'll be able to catch you next time."

"Sure sure sure! Whatever you say, man!" He took a deep breath to regain some composure. "Can-can I go home now? I'm not feeling too good..."

**xXx**

The cool of the pillow on my face was more than relaxing than I remembered. Sounds of screaming and yelling from nearby awoke me, my eyes slowly adjusting to the light of the sunrise. I figured it was the elderly couple on the other side of us at first, my mind still groggy from my slumber. Once my mind got settled, I realized it was coming from the other direction, towards MJ's apartment. It sparked interest in me. Enough to get me dressed on the spot.

According to the clock, the time was 5:57 AM. Plenty of time for school.

I pulled myself up from the bed, my sheets barely damp from the barrage of snow a few hours before. The yelling was getting louder, but still not quite understandable. The slam of a door followed soon after I put my shirt on. I started sliding my pants on when there was a rapid knock on the door. I was still too tired to completely piece things together, but I was awake enough to know that I should probably get there before Ben. I headed towards the front door, the knocking becoming pounding. I quickened my pace as I heard my name being called from the other side of the door. By the time I opened the door, my mind was fully awoken.

On the other side was MJ, in a tank top and gym shorts. Her hair was a mess, face lacking make-up. She looked like she just woke up…aside from the split lip and new bruises. My heart sank as I saw the pain in MJ's face. We stared at each other in silence for a second, neither of us quite sure what to say.

I went first. "MJ…? What…what the hell…?"

"Did you tell anyone?" Mary Jane growled, moving in closer to me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you tell anyone?" She repeated, slightly calmer than before, making sure to perfectly pronounce each word.

"About your Dad? No, no one."

"Well, SOMEHOW, Spider-Man found out."

I began to fear the worse. "What? Spider-Man? You're kidding me."

"No! I'm not! He harassed my father last night!" She moved in closer and I took a step back to let her in the apartment. "He thinks I talked to him. Me! Like I know how to speak to Spider-Man."

"I didn't tell anyone…" I reassured her, shutting the front door and facing MJ.

"Well, somebody did!"

I tried redirecting the topic. "What happened, MJ?"

She kept quiet for a while, looking at the ground as she formulated her thoughts. "My Dad kicked me out." Tears began to form in her eyes.

God dammit. "What? What do you plan on doing?" Don't tell me those injuries are old, either."

"I…" She broke down, falling into me. I held her tightly, my left hand lightly patting him back. "He beat me for, apparently, telling Spider-Man."

"Do you have anyone you can stay with?"

"Yeah, I have an Aunt not too far from here."

I gently pushed MJ away from me, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Call her. I'll deal with you father."

"You're not gonna attack him, are you?" Her face dropped even more than before.

"No." Her face stayed worried. "Trust me. Get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom or something. I'll deal with this."

She slowly peeled her eyes away from me and headed for the bathroom. I ran my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath to compile my thoughts. Spider-Man had caused more harm than good once again. I was starting to realize that intervention isn't always the best course of action. I needed to learn my limits if I was gonna be an actual hero.

Ignoring my petty problems, I picked up the phone and called 9-1-1.

**xXx**

I watched out the window as MJ's father was escorted out the building and into the back of the police car. There was more than enough proof within the apartment and on MJ herself to convict him. Ben kept me home to help deal with MJ before her Aunt showed up. Ben was more human than most people I've ever met. The past few months hadn't been easy on me, and even though Ben didn't know exactly why, he noticed and was kind enough to give me the time to sort out my problems. Next year I'll give him a better Christmas present.

I left the light of the window and headed for the hallway. Down the right, towards the stairs, MJ was finishing up her conversation with the police. She would definitely have to go to court for this. I leaned up against the wall and checked my phone, the sound of police sirens peeling away from the building outside.

7:33 PM.

MJ turned away from the police as they headed down the stairs and towards me. The bruises on her face were just as vibrant as before, but the cut lip had been cleaned up and was now barely visible. She smiled as she got closer. "Hey…"

"Hey…" I responded back, pushing myself off the wall.

"I'm gonna have to go to court for this…"

"I figured." I shrugged, looking at the ground. "Ben suggested a lawyer by the name of Matt Murdock. If Ben likes him, he can't be too bad."

"I hadn't really thought of court yet…"

Thinking I might have brought up a sensitive topic, I tried to apologize "Oh, I'm so-"

"Thanks." She interrupted me, a soft smile following closely behind.

"It's no problem. Anyone would have done it..." I shrugged off the compliment, trying not to look so modest.

"No, they wouldn't have. That's why this is so special." Her smile was sincere and heart-melting. I smiled back out of instinct.

"Ah, don't-" She cut me short with a hug. It was a tight hug, one that meant more than any of the other hugs she's given me the past few days. I hugged back, her warm breath just barely skimming past my neck. Again, goosebumps ran up my back. We released each other, MJ taking a step back to give each other some breathing room.

We smiled at each other for a while before her phone vibrated in her pocket. She read the text on her screen, puling her eyes away from mine. "My Aunt's here…"

"Are you still gonna be in school?"

"She doesn't live very far away, so yeah."

"Well…I'll see you when I see you."

"Why not tomorrow?" She headed towards the stairs, body twisted to face me and the stairs at the same time.

"I have a funeral…"

"Oh…" The smile dropped from her face for a second. "Gwen's Dad?"

"Yeah…"

"Tell her I'm sorry."

"Will do." I fell against the wall again as she began heading down the stairs. Before she went out of sight, she waved at me one more time. I waved back and before I knew it, she was gone.

I was lonelier than ever, and virtually nothing had changed.


	19. Snatched

_Hey, guys! Sorry it took so long. I made up for it with 2 chapters! Yes, that's right, two. I tried to make them as suspenseful as possible, but I think we all knew this was going to happen eventually, haha. Either way, enjoy. I probably only have on more chapter left on this story…wow. _

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**SNATCHED:**

The black suits and dresses scattering the cemetery like a stain on the earth were slowly transforming to white as the snow came down heavier and heavier with each passing minute. There hadn't been enough notice to put up the tent and by this point it was seen as an insult to those mourning. The snow was cold and wet and it was becoming painful to sit in my seat any longer, but I pushed on, trying my best to listen to the priest as he recited his speech about Stacy's past. I shivered and found myself joined by others in the funeral party.

Eventually I gave up, letting the cold of the air and snow deafen my hearing, only the sound of my inner thoughts to accompany me. I took advantage of the moment to think over the past few weeks. The Goblin, Harry, Shocker, Kraven, Stacy, Norman, Otto; it all accumulated in a confusing plot that I hadn't put together quite yet. Of course, this was assuming that this all added up to some grand scheme. But if Norman was behind it, that was more than just a safe bet.

Suddenly, the men and women around me began to get up from their seats, tears freezing as they hit the snow covered floor. I made my way onto my feet and waited for the crowd to disperse toward the hearse and the many cars behind it. I slid my hand into my pocket and reached for my phone, but stopped when my eyes met the freshly plotted grave. I stopped halfway through dialling for Ben to pick me up and stared at the gravestone. My throat became dry, despite the snow, and I walked up to the gravestone slowly.

I stood over it, biting my bottom left, reading the inscription on the stone, the stone nestling softly atop the slab of diorite; an expensive rock. A fitting end for Captain George Stacy.

And for no reason whatsoever, I began to speak my mind. "Heh. Hey, George-uh, Mister Stacy." I shook my head at myself. "Things aren't gonna be easy from now on…you were…you were an excellent cop. Uh…Gwen's…fine. I think. I'll make sure it stays that way." I wiped my nose with my sleeve and took in a deep breath of air. "I don't know if you can hear me, but…here it goes. I'm not letting that bastard get away. He will pay. I swear it. You were a great cop, a great dad, and a great person. You will be sorely missed." A fresh gust of wind blew in, freezing me to the bone. I changed the tone. "Nice gravestone. Must cost a lot." I smiled at myself. "You'd think I'd get used to funerals over time, but that doesn't seem to be the case. If I don't go to another funeral for as long as I live, it'll be too soon." The crunch of freshly laid snow startled me, but I turned around slowly, not being cautious for danger. My spider-sense would have gone off had that been the case.

There was Gwen, cradling a purse between her arms, her platinum hair shining even brighter beneath a layer of snow. "Hey…" she whispered, moving closer.

"Hi." She stepped up beside me and I turned back toward the gravestone. "Did you hear any of that?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Sorry." I didn't know why I was apologizing, it just felt right.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I…I don't know." I lowered my eyes. "I thought I should in case something I said was offensive."

"It wasn't." She moved in closer. "It was beautiful."

"Thanks." I whispered, not removing my eyes from the grave. "You OK?"

"I will be."

"That gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach that keeps coming up?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't it terrible?" I was trying to make the situation more light-hearted.

"I hate it."

"Get used to it. It never truly goes away."

"Great." She sighed, her breath fuming out in a crystallized cloud. Someone called Gwen's name from the row of cars to my right. She waved and nodded at whoever it was and turned back towards me. "I've-"

"Got to go." I finished for it, smiling, but not showing my teeth.

She turned to leave, smiling at me, but barely made it three steps before she turned back and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She smiled at me one more time and finally left for the hearse. I watched as she got into the passenger side of the car and pulled away from graveyard, the trail of cars following closely behind. I felt my cheek as the cars pulled away, a slight trace of lipstick sticking to my fingertips.

I had forgotten how warm her lips were.

**xXx**

"How was the funeral?" Ben asked as he shut the door to the apartment behind me.

I plummeted into the couch and placed my hands over my face, head angled up towards the ceiling. "Terrible."

"They usually are." He smirked, standing next to the couch on one leg. "Did you see Gwen?"

"Yep."

"How was that?"

"Better than expected."

"Really?" Ben sounded pleasantly surprised.

"She heard me giving my last words to the Captain."

"Ah." Ben nodded and smiled, taking a seat beside me, placing the crutches against the arm of the couch. "You put on a show for her?"

"Not on purpose."

"Still counts."

"I need a shower." I moaned, getting up from the seat and heading towards the bathroom, dropping my tie on the kitchen counter as I walked by it.

"Getting ready to head out for some new 'Spidey pics'?"

"Why would I be getting more 'Spidey pics'?" I stopped outside the bathroom door and turned around.

"Well, one: it's your job, and two: Jonah needs new pics of Spider-Man by Friday."

God dammit. I forgot. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding…"

"You completely forgot."

"Yes." I made sure to smack my head against something before I got in the shower.

**xXx**

I leapt across buildings, diving headfirst into the next rooftop and rolled to decrease the pain, continuing my routine down the street leading to the Empire State Building. I sprinted toward the end of the building and placed my foot on the molding rounding the building and sprung up into the air, flipping backwards to put on a show for the camera, and fell between buildings. Deciding to play along with my mistake, I tumbled through the air, spinning and twirling as I headed toward the ground. With only seconds to spare, I threw out a web-line and pulled my feet back, getting ready to kick them forward for extra momentum. People gasped and cheered as I flew through traffic, my feet inches from the concrete, and launched up into the air, sticking to the side of the building. I checked my phone quickly, ignoring the cheers and shouts below.

1:12 PM.

I figured this was as good a time as ever to head back with my new patch of, hopefully, sellable pictures. My thoughts were cut short as my spider-sense flared up and I dove off the building, back toward the street and swung across to the other rows of buildings. A series of explosions rocked the building, debris and glass tumbling down to the street. I flung out a series of web-lines, a lazily made spider web catching the falling pieces of building. I recognized the explosions, the unannounced arrival of them.

Goblin.

Norman.

The hum of his glider could be heard above the traffic and the crowd and I prepped myself for his attack. Sure enough, the green bastard hovered down from out of sight and met me at eye level, fifteen feet away.

"You." I snarled, getting ready to leap at him.

"Hello, Parker." He grinned, holding in a laugh. "How was your funeral?"

I ignored him. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to give you one more chance."

"For what?"

"One chance to quit playing for the losing team. To use your powers for the greater good."

"I am."

"No, you aren't." He took in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly. "Look at you. You just pulled off an entire gymnastics routine several stories in the air, swung from artificial webbing YOU created, and now here you are sticking to the side of the building talking to yours truly. Yet, you're determined to save the hide of these snivelling pricks who will do nothing but gawk at your greatness. What keeps you going?"

"I made a promise that with great power comes great responsibility. I'll never back down on that promise."

"Oh, GOD! You have to be kidding me. That's it? Some promise you made? Maybe you truly are beyond repair." He laughed a terrible, heaving cackle. My lip began to twitch as I watched him cradle his torso as he laughed, losing his breath.

With nothing stopping me, I dove at The Goblin, catching him off-guard and knocking him off his glider. We traded blows, me with the upper hand, as we fell down the street. After about five or six punches, he landed a clean shot to my stomach, loosening the grip I had on him. He landed a second and I rocketed towards the ground. I crashed into the front end of a truck, the roof collapsing as I broke through it.

God, that hurt. "Is that all you got?" I laughed.

He didn't answer, but instead, he accelerated towards me, his hands full of bombs. I rolled back onto my shoulders and sprung forward with my hands, feet extended in front of me. I could feel his chest tighten as I plunged my feet into his path, knocking him off the glider. I followed him as the two of us headed for the street, the glider flying without direction behind us. The Goblin landed first, his breath leaving him. I landed onto of him, my feet crushing his torso. I began my assault again, my fists chapping as I beat away at his face. My spider-sense flashed and I turned around without question.

His glider was barrelling down on the two of us, its talons directed at me. I dropped down, still pinning the Goblin to the ground and smashed my forehead into his nose. He let out a cry of pain at my attack, the glider avoiding the two of us. Its talons connected with the side of a minivan, the torn metal and rug carpeted seats catching the blades. The engines roared to life, the navigational controls going off as the glider was unable to free itself of the van.

I ignored it and looked back down at The Goblin, relieved that his glider was now useless, but The Goblin had regained some strength within that two second span and landed a punch to my throat. I coughed and sputtered, falling backwards slightly and felt his foot slide out from beneath me. That same foot hit me in the chest, sending me rolling along the street until I stopped beside an abandoned car. I felt my mask and realized that it had torn at the mouth. I sighed, spitting blood from my split lip onto the street and tried regaining some ground. The Goblin caught up to me before I could stand, grabbing me by the throat and lifting me up to the air.

"You've pushed me too far." He growled, baring his teeth. "Either give up and die now or continue this worthless fight and die anyway."

"I never was very good with multiple choice." I smiled, the tear in my mask showing my emotion.

He smashed me down into the roof of the car, metal and glass launching up around me. The pain was unbearable and I gasped, unable to think of any other response. I could tell by the way he flexed his arm and the expression in his face that he was beyond pissed. Wasting no time, he picked me up again and launched me at the building across the street, the one already destroyed by his bombs. I hit the building face first. I was still in too much pain from being thrown through the car to catch myself and suffered another hit. I rolled up onto my stomach, gasping for breath and noticed a trail of blood where I landed. My back must have been pretty badly cut after being thrown into broken metal twice.

I didn't want to wait for The Goblin to catch up to me and I dashed towards the newspaper dispenser to my right. Just as I reached it, The Goblin vaulted over one of the cars, landing on the sidewalk I was standing on. I ripped the dispenser out of the ground and went to throw it, but The Goblin was already right beside me. Instead, I beat him across the head with it, knocking him over and up against the building. I hit him again and again until his body had cracked the building. I lifted the newspaper dispenser one more time, but felt a sudden shift in weight as it cracked in two. I let go of the base, the metal bouncing as it hit the ground, and kicked the Goblin across the face as he was trying to get back on his feet.

"Face it, Norman." I started, spitting blood on the sidewalk beside him. "You can't beat me. Every one of our fights ends with you running away. You know I'm better than you."

"Or maybe I don't want to actually kill you…yet." He growled, pulling himself up to his feet. I drove my fist into his stomach, knocking him back on the ground.

"What are you getting at?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"No…I won't." I stated bluntly, getting ready to land another kick to his face.

My spider-sense went off, the back of my head lighting up like a firecracker. I snapped my head to the right and noticed that the glider was heading right for me, the minivan still attached to its talons. I went to jump straight up to allow the van and the glider to hit the building beside me, but I was too slow. The van hit me head-on, sending my body through the already damaged and cracked building. I bounced and skipped along the linoleum floor of the store I had just entered and stopped against a display case of DVDs. Customers fled the store screaming and pushing as I moaned and ever so slowly pulled myself up to my feet. The Goblin's boot pressed me back down into the floor. I stopped moving, letting myself catch my breath, and felt the Goblin's breath grace the back of my neck as he bent down to whisper in my ear.

"I've let you off fairly easy so far, but you've tried my patience and now you must be punished." I tried pulling myself up to my feet, but he drove his knee into the center of my back, knocking me down again. "Someone you love will be killed because of your arrogance. Tonight."

I felt him remove his knee from my back and I wasted no time and leaping to me feet, fists tight, but he was gone. The store empty aside from the debris left from the hole in the wall.

"No…" I whispered, running to the hole in the wall and looking out. He wasn't there. "No."

Ben…

**xXx**

From a distance, the building looked fine, safe. It calmed me for a second but Norman was unpredictable, insane. He could have snuck in and out without anyone noticing. Ben might still be home, dead in his seat, a bullet through his head. The image chilled me to the bone and I ran across the rooftop even faster, the apartment building the only thing in my line of sight. I jumped as far as I could, over a whole building and onto the side of the apartment. I counted the floors, stomach cold.

"Gotta go up two floors…two floors." I mumbled, scaling the building as quickly as possible. I was yelling at myself to move faster, to be him. I had to be faster, even if it wasn't possible. I stopped by the window to the living room and looked in slowly, trying not be seen in case Ben was still there.

At first glance I didn't see him and I could feel my heart skip a beat, but I soon noticed him sitting on the couch. His khakis and brown shirt helped him blend in with the leather of the couch. My body relaxed and I took a deep breath, pulling myself away from the window.

"Oh, God…oh…oh, man." I cradled my head in my arms. Ben was safe, that was good, but that meant the Goblin had someone else in store. Someone I wasn't with.

MJ…

I ran up the building and up to the roof, the gravel 'Crunching' beneath my feet as I sprung myself over the molding surround the tip of the apartment. I pulled outlay phone and flipped through my contacts to 'Mary Jane', my fingers shaking with fear and numb from the cold. Eventually, I found her number and I hit the green phone symbol without hesitation.

"Please be there." I held the phone up to my ear, still shaking.

One ring. Muffled, distant.

I tore off my mask to hear better, throwing it to the ground.

Second ring. Still no answer.

I ran my other hand through my hair.

Third ring. A slight ruffle.

I bit my bottom lip until it turned pale.

The fourth ring started and I could have sworn I was going to pass out, but the ring stopped and I could hear MJ's voice answer. "Peter?" Every muscle in my body relaxed.

"Oh, thank God!" I blurted out.

"What's up?" She sounded like normal MJ. That was relieving.

"Are you alone?"

"What? Why?"

"Are you alone?" My voice became louder.

"My aunt's in the living room."

"Where are you?"

"My house." She sounded confused, slightly scared.

"No, no, no. What room?"

"My room."

"Lock the door." I was becoming demanding, but the situation called for it.

"Why?"

I ignored her. "Just do it! Windows too."

"What's going on, Peter?" She started to become annoyed."

"Do it! I'll explain later!"

"No. Explain now!"

"Do this for me! Please! Lock all doors and wi-"

"Explain! Now!"

"GOD DAMMIT, MJ! JUST LISTEN TO ME!" I screamed, almost falling to my knees. She didn't answer and I began to get nervous again. "M-MJ?"

"I'm here…" She whispered.

"Please…just do it. It's important. I swear I'll explain later."

She took a second to answer. "OK, Peter…but you better explain this."

"I swear to God."

"OK…gimme a second." In the background, I could hear her lock the door and then move over to the windows, locking them too. "OK. Done. Anything else?"

"Uh…" C'mon, Parker! You need to be safe! "Do you have blinds?"

"Yes."

"Close them."

Another second until she answered. "Done."

"Thank you…so much." I took a deep breath and watched the steam curl up and into the air before disappearing into the chilling, winter sky. "If you notice anything suspicious, call me right away."

"Like what?"

"Anything. Anything that doesn't seem right."

"OK. I'll try."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

I hung up before she could answer back and dropped to the ground, letting the phone drip from my fingers and onto my mask. I cradled myself, still shaking slightly. While it was reassuring that Ben and MJ were safe, that meant the Goblin was going after someone else and I didn't know who it was. I didn't know that many people and most of the people who meant anything to me were already dead.

Uncle Ben.

Aunt May.

A gust of wind caused me to shiver, teeth rattling in my mouth, and it hit me like a train. Every bone in my muscle in my body tensed and I could feel my heart stop.

I don't know how I forgot.

I wasn't thinking.

Gwen.

**xXx**

Her house was close and I pushed myself to move faster. I couldn't, though, and it pained me to no end to know that I was unable to do anything. The cold air and fatigue slowed me down more than ever and the jump between the buildings, even though they were houses by this point, was becoming more and more difficult, but I spied that top of Gwen's house just over the lip of the next house and I managed to move faster across the snow-dusted roofs. I stopped along the edge of the last house and studied Gwen's house from across the street. The house was intact, the lights to Gwen's room still on. Two cops were posted up against the house on either side of the front door. There were no signs of the Goblin.

My lungs began to work again…until I looked closer. The police officers were lifeless, fake looking. Something was off. When no one was looking, I dove across the street and landed on the sidewalk in front of Gwen's house.

The two officers were dead, blood running down their bodies, eyes wide-open, mouths agape. Each of them had one of the Goblin's bombs lodged into their throats, but these bombs had two metal prongs sticking out of opposite ends.

"No…no, no, no." My mouth barely worked and I could feel my knees physically shaking.

I charged through the front door and found more death. One cop had been hoisted over the railing on the stairs, his head backwards. Another cop thrown through the far wall, legs dangling by the hip. I ignored them and sprinted up the steps, my hands pushing against everything in sight in some sort of futile attempt to make myself move faster. Gwen's door was shut, light shining out from the cracks around it and onto the hallway rug. I bared myself for some sort of gruesome image akin to that of her father's.

Gwen's dead body flashed across my mind.

I shuttered and bit my lip before kicking down her door.

It was empty. A cold wind blew through the room by way of the open window. The curtains shifted. My heart sank. A small jack-o-lantern, big enough to fit in the palm of my hand pinned down a piece of paper on the floor. Slowly, I dragged my feet to the note and the pumpkin, picking up the pumpkin with my right hand and the note with my left. The pumpkin was hollow, real, not a threat. The note was rectangular, multiple straight lines covering the left, an address on the left. The back was lamented. I recognized the card instantly; a postcard.

With one shaky twist of my wrist, I flipped the card around.

My arms were shaking, my head was light, and I felt as if I was going to pass out.

A picture of the George Washington Bridge, the words 'Wish You Were Here' digitally added on the top of the card.

I dove out the open window in an instant.

**xXx**

The police had already arrived, red-n-blue sirens drowning out the brown and silver of nearby buildings. I counted eight cars and more than three times that many officers. A mass of people had formed behind the police divider, camera flashes going off at random intervals. My eyes moved up the street, following the yellow divider and straight up the two columns to the top of the first divider, the water rippling in the background. He stood there firmly, his purple rags whipping in the wind.

A thin figure with blonde hair in his arms.

Gwen.

I took a deep breath and leapt off the edge of the skyscraper, torpedoing down towards the street. I shot out a web-line directly in front of me and swung right between buildings. I let go of my webbing at the top of my arch and shot straight across to the docks, my body continuing over them and to the water. Before my body crashed into the foaming river, I snagged a web-line onto the outer wall of the divider and reeled myself in with the same hand. I stopped myself at the wall, my hands and feet stuck to the stone wall.

I began to think of Gwen up above and whatever terrible things the Goblin had already done to her. My fingers began to slip and the world started to go dark. I regained my composure and caught myself before I fainted.

"No…no…not now." I mumbled, rubbing my head. "Gotta move…gotta…do something…"

I continued up the wall and pulled my eyes over the top. The Goblin's eyes were staring back, the red pupils burning bright in the night sky. The air from his breath steaming up and into the air. I could feel myself slipping again and so I pulled myself up to my feet, slowly, making sure to take my time and think things over. The two of us stood there face-to-face, our chests rising and falling.

My heart was beating like a drum.

His smile grew brighter.

"Good Evening, Mr. Parker. Ms. Stacy and I have been waiting for you."

And he laughed and he laughed.


	20. Broken

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**BROKEN:**

My knees felt as if they were about to give, my stomach eating itself alive. The cold sting of winter's bite on my exposed skin, the trickle of blood from opened wounds. I was a mess. A small, insignificant mess and as I starred at my enemy, the thought became worse and worse. He had healed quickly, not a single trace of our battle. His blood-red eyes staring back at me, his purple rags flapping in the wind. His newly acquired weapon had become a doomsday device to both me and the police.

Gwen.

"Please…" My voice was shaky, broken. "I-I-I don't know…I don't know what you want…please…"

He laughed, mocking me. Her golden hair hanging from around his arms. "What do I want? What I want is for you to suffer."

"No…"

"Yes." He barked back. "I told you would pay for your stubbornness." He looked down at Gwen, his smile growing. "This is your check, Mr. Parker."

"What do you plan on accomplishing? What will killing Gwen do?" Tears began to form in my eyes and my lip began to shake.

"I'm not expecting anything. Not by this point at least. I'm doing this to show you what you could have avoided had you used your gifts correctly."

"What? What gifts?"

"We're brothers, Mr. Parker. Brothers stick together."

"Brot-" I stopped mid-sentence and looked down at my right hand.

The spider-bite.

I looked back up at him, bewildered. He smiled right back.

"You can't be serious…" I whispered. "You think we're brothers because we both have that Oz shit in us?"

He laughed at me, cackling. I began to get even more light-headed. "Of course we are, Peter. Even the worthless citizens of this wretched city know we're one in the same. Two diamonds in a mound of coal."

"You're insane! All I've done is help these people! I pledged that wi-"

"Great power comes great yada yada yada. I've heard it all before." He continued for me, his smile dropping from his face. "You don't think these cops and lawyers will butcher you for not saving little Miss Gwendolyn Stacy? Hell, they're ready to kill us both right now…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Looks, Peter. Slowly." He lightly nodded his head to his left.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the barrage of SWAT and police cars that had blocked off the end of the bridge leading to Manhattan. The sirens blaring, lights blinding, my world slowly began to fall apart. Almost every officer there had a machine gun, grip and scope attached to each one. Half of the men stood their ground, guns pointed directly at the Goblin, their focus standing strong against the wind and the cold.

The other half was on me.

"No…you idiots…" I mumbled, loud enough for the Goblin to hear.

"You can't blame them. It's not every day you see people like us." He paused for a second, his smile reforming. "Well, not them, anyway. You've had your hands quite full with Kraven and Shocker lately."

My world imploded.

"Wha-? How could you…?" My voice was jagged, clogged, my throat hoarse from the cold air.

"Without them, I wouldn't be here right now. You have them to thank for their…contributions to science."

His words hit like a sledgehammer, my brain pulsating within my skull. The Goblin's plan slowly unveiled itself before me. The pieces had been right in front of me all along; all it took was a little light for me to put them together. His words were that light.

The spider that bit me in Oscorp was infused with an experimental version of Oz. I didn't just live through the bite, I was changed by it. Somehow, the Oz formula had worked. It had turned me into something more than just Peter Parker, and Norman despised it. He was enraged with curiosity and jealousy. He spent every waking moment trying to replicate the results. He went through test subject after test subject, grand after grand. Nothing. On top of his recent failures, Norman began to experience a new problem: Harry.

Harry was getting too close to Norman's work and he couldn't afford to have Harry find out about what he was doing. He needed to distract him, draw his attention elsewhere. He told Harry he was a crime-boss, some sort of Kingpin, disguising it as some sort of 'coming of age' knowledge. Harry went insane, torn between doing what was right and handing in his father, and keeping his secret. Thing was, it was all a lie, and even if Harry did decide to hand his father in, there would be no proof and Norman would be off scott-free.

With Harry off his back and now in my care, Norman was free to work as he pleased, spending days at a time working. This lifestyle was becoming too expensive and Norman couldn't afford to pay off witnesses to his experiments and hire test subjects, so he brought his experimental Oz to the streets, disguising it as some sort of new street drug. That's where I first encountered him; selling Oz to that group of kids in the alleyway. With me involved, Norman was getting nervous, especially since I now had a vile of Oz which, if I wanted to, could be traced back to Norman. He needed to get rid of me and so he hired Kraven, a hit-man from Australia with a background in hunting to take me out. To combat my spider-powers, Norman gave Kraven a very mild version of Oz, just enough to make him a formidable opponent. Norman's plan worked and he was able to work, undisturbed, for a little longer.

For his next test subject, Norman looked to a long-time rival of his: Otto Octavius. Knowing that Otto wouldn't go without a fight and that his mother was in town, Norman hired Hammerhead to kill off his mother, to emotional weaken Otto, and bring him in for testing. Unfortunately, Otto retaliated and caused Hammerhead to lose his cool and almost kill him. Norman wasn't finished with Otto, however, and pulled the strings so that Otto would be treated in Dr. Phineas Mason's clinic. Norman had funded most of Dr. Mason's clinic and so he made it for Otto to be put in his own room, in the back of the building, away from the other patients, so that Norman could experiment as he pleased once Otto healed.

Norman wasn't done with his Oz formula, though, and he was running out of money, fast. His intense jealousy and craving for knowledge led him to break known bank robber, Herman Schultz: a burglar with a history for seizures, out of jail. He promised Schultz unlimited power and a cut of the profit if he would become a test subject and perform a heist for him. Herman agreed and became a living weapon with the ability to turn the kinetic energy from his seizures into concentrated blasts of energy which were projected from his gauntlets. To make sure Schultz was stronger than Kraven and still able to function, Norman augmented Herman with both his own technology and the Oz formula. Norman's idea worked and Herman became a walking energy weapon.

Unfortunately, the tech caused Herman's body to rely on Oz; a fact I witnessed first-hand during our fight. Herman gathered his old gang together and stole the desired amount for Norman. Thinking ahead, Herman and his gang took different vans, his gang holding the money, him by himself. Falling for the trick, I followed Schultz and the money made it to Norman safely. Armed with more money, Norman continued his tests, working on the, now healed, Otto in Mason's clinic. Whatever he did to Otto obviously worked better than he could have imagined and Otto escaped the clinic with ease.

With no other options, Osborn created one last batch of the Oz formula and tested it on his last test subject, taking every possible risk he could.

Himself.

The formula worked, better than he could have ever imagined, and Norman changed, his skin mutating to a scale-like green, eyes bleeding over into red, teeth taking the form of fangs. He was, in every form of the word, a goblin, and he loved it. He was stronger, faster and deadlier than ever.

And because of this, he viewed the two of us as brothers, gods among men. He created some ill-conceived prophecy of a link between us, that we were meant to rule over the weak. But in his mind, I had broken fate by becoming Spider-Man, by helping them. He became hell-bent on breaking me, both physically and mentally. He wanted to show me that he was my equal, if not superior, and that by going against him, I was destined to lose. Because of this, I was attacked ruthlessly, Captain Stacy was killed, Ben was kidnapped, and now, Gwen; the final piece to his puzzle.

One thing's for sure. As of right now…

I'm destined to lose.

The Goblin sensed my amazement, my hesitation. "What's wrong, Parker? Surprised that everything leading up to this point was all made possible by me?"

"I-I…what? You're…you're an idiot!" I yelled, pointing my finger at him.

He took a step back, taken aback by my response. "That's not a smart thing to say, Peter. Especially since I have Ms. Stacy here."

"You had money, power, influence, and obviously the smarts considering how developed your plan was, but you threw it all away because of jealousy and greed. What is wrong with you? I can tell you one thing, we sure as hell aren't brothers, you sick freak!"

He looked at me, the smile slowly dropping from his face. I stared back, my heart beat increasing, the thought that those words were what was going to kill Gwen. He looked away from me and at Gwen, staring at her for a few second before turning towards the edge of the bridge and laying her down gently on the ground. I began to shake, confused and nervous, ready to pounce. He smiled.

I realized that with Gwen out of the way, I was safe to beat the living crap out of him. I leapt at him, pinning him to the ground with my hands. Before he could react, I start throwing punches at his face. Each one sending a tremor up my arm. I went to throw another right hook, but the Goblin caught my wrist, stopping my strike. I ignored it and threw a punch with my left; he caught this one just the same. I growled in his face, trying to get my feet in a position where I could land kicks. I needed to put him down quickly.

He laughed at me and I spat in his face. He retaliated by squeezing my wrists. Something snapped and I ignored it, not feeling pain, still trying to get my legs free. My left leg escaped from beneath me, but before I could deliver a swift kick to his neck, he slid his leg out from under me and pressed it against my chest. I froze, looking at his foot, and then back up at him. He smiled, showing a sharp, toothy grin, and kicked me, releasing my wrists so that I tumbled along the roof, stopping by the edge overlooking the water.

I was already hurt from our battle in the street earlier and so I was having a hard time getting up. I cursed at myself for not putting him down already. I had the upper hand.

I looked up at him, on one knee, and received a right hook to the jaw. I fell over, dizzy and out of breath. His hand gripped my neck and slowly brought me up to his level. I struggled for air, kicking and squirming in his grasp. He brought me in quickly, kneeing me in the stomach and threw me into the ground, my head ricocheting off the concrete.

The world went dark for a second.

I forced myself up to my feet, vision swaying, my legs barely able to keep myself up. My head was pounding, my hearing cut off.

The Goblin had Gwen in his grasp again. He smiled and said something that I was unable to hear.

And then he dropped her off the edge.

My world slowed to a snail's pace as I lunged forward, my feet pushing at the concrete. My eyes staring wholeheartedly at Gwen as she slowly disappeared from view. My breathing accelerated to a fever pitch and I was forcing myself to continue forward. Forcing myself to stay awake, not to faint right there and then. The Goblin took a step back, smiling at me. I looked up at him as I continued forward, my eyes showing through my cracked lenses. He gave me a big, toothy grin and I forced myself to stay concentrated on Gwen.

Piece of shit.

Gwen disappeared behind the arch faster than I expected. I dropped to my hip, sliding along the concrete, my costume catching at the stones and bumps in the ground. I stayed concentrated on my goal. I came up to the edge of the arch, my chest lined up the edge, my head and arms dangling high above the ground.

Above Gwen.

She was still in free-fall, her body weightless in the dark, winter air. Her golden hair reaching out from her body.

I still had time.

I threw out my arms and, without hesitation, my fingers pressed the triggers of my web-shooters. The gears shifted within my mechanical creations, the fluid being compressed and pushed to the nozzle. The web-shooters began to fizz and I could feel my breath, somehow, increasing. The fizz heightened for a second before being turned into nothing.

No webbing.

No fluid.

Nothing.

The Goblin had planned this. He never had any plans for Gwen to live and made sure his plans came to fruition. That snap I heard during our fight was my web-shooters. He had broken them…to break me.

The world froze, each individual snow-flake becoming distinguishable against a backdrop of pitch-black sky. My hearing had left me. Shut off like a light switch. My heart wasn't beating. My lungs weren't working. My eyes were forced to forever stare at Gwen. The gentle trace of her body, the gleam of her hair. The look of peace on her face.

I pressed the trigger on my web-shooters again as the world slowly began to work again. As the Earth decided to revolve around the sun once more.

Still nothing.

She fell farther.

One more time. Same results.

Not much time left.

Scared and desperate, Gwen seemed to be falling faster now. The world had almost resumed its normal pace. The city beginning to live once more. With no more options, I tried my web-shooters once more, pressing as hard as I could. This time, a crack was heard.

The crack of Gwen's body hitting the ground.

The city went silent, as if every light had just shut off. The sound of the wind kicking up snow, the beep of a car horn. My own body mimicked it, not a single part deciding to react. I just laid there, staring helplessly at the broken body on the road. My arms hung lifelessly from my shoulders. My face began to burn up, my eyes tearing. Slowly, I lifted my head; the police were beginning to move in.

I had to beat them.

For Gwen.

I picked myself up and raced over to the edge of the arch where the suspenders met it. My vision was hazy and uneven, the trip down to the ground was torture, but I didn't care. I needed to get to Gwen. As I reached the ground, I looked up to the divider, where the last few seconds had just felt like an eternity.

The Goblin was gone, vanished like a mirage.

Good thing, too. If he had been there, he would have already been dead.

I leapt to the pavement and stumbled as I landed my mind and body not quite ready for what I was going through. The police backed up at the sight of me. I ignored them and I continued over to Gwen where she lay in a puddle of her own blood, her body contorted, twisted. As I headed over to her, I could feel my heart weighing me down, and my knees buckled beneath me. I fell to the concrete, crying, shaking.

No. You have to finish.

I pulled myself to my hands and my knees and crawled the rest of the way to Gwen, my vision clouded by tears. I could have sworn I was going to vomit at any moment. I got to Gwen and slowly, carefully, picked her up in my arms. I sat slouched, tired, weary, Gwen's body cradled in my arms. A trail of blood dripping from her lips, her eyes closed. I could feel the twist and the snap of her spine with my hands. Blood poured from a crack in the back of her head, staining her blonde hair.

I broke down and hugged her, sobbing and biting my bottom lip. I could feel no heartbeat, no breath, no life.

Gwen Stacy had died by the Goblin's hand.

"No…please…don't-don't do this to-to me…" I cried, gripping her tighter. "You can't leave me."

As I hugged her, letting my emotions flow, I could feel the warmth of her body on mine as we hugged, the taste of her lips on mine, the shine of her smile, the dance of her eyes as she laughed. My best memories with her unfolded before me, like a book revealing its secrets. I knew there would be no others and I knew that these memories would fade over time, like a burned photograph. The thoughts hurt and I cried harder, my throat clogged. I could hear footsteps slowly approach from my right. I ignored them, keeping to myself.

They stopped beside me. I slowly twisted my head to the right, my eyes looking up at my visitor.

Jean DeWolfe. Her hand hovering over her pistol.

The visual of her and her lack of trust in me lit of flame of rage in my chest. I slowly lowered Gwen to the pavement, straightening out her body, trying to make her seem as natural as possible. The wind picked up and I used my right hand to gently push the hair out of her eyes. The wind came once more and her hair shifted. That's when I noticed what was wrong; her hairband was missing. I stood up, nervous and shaky, my head twisting from side-to-side. My eyes searched frantically for the little black hairband that she loved so much.

"Spider-Man…" DeWolfe started.

"Shut up! Where's the hairband?" I demanded, not even bothering to look at her.

"Excuse me?" She sounded hurt.

"I'll deal with you later!" I turned towards her, screaming in her face. "Where's that god damn hairband?" The tears came rolling down my face in droves. She looked at me through a fresh set of eyes. I was no longer a mutant or a false idol to this city. I was a person. Just like here.

She raised her hand to the left. "I saw it over there."

I ran over to where she was pointing and found the little piece of black plastic lying silently on the cracked road. I picked it up, my conversation with Gwen the night her father died replaying in my head.

She worried about me so much.

I weighed the hairband in my hand, my fingers tracing the edges.

She actually cared.

I headed back over to her body, DeWolfe standing nearby.

Caring for me got her killed.

I dropped to my knee and fixed her hair with the hairband, making sure no strand was out of place. I could hear DeWolfe breathing beside me, part of my brain working out my conversation with her ahead of time. With the hairband resting comfortably atop her head, I took a step back to admire my work. Aside from the ever growing puddle of blood, she looked as normal as ever. She looked like Gwen.

"Can we talk now?" DeWolfe asked cautiously. I turned my attention towards her, that hatred in my chest rekindling. "Look, I'm sorry this had to happen bu-"

"Shut your mouth, you bitch." I growled, taking a step forward.

"Watch your mo-"

"NO! What were you thinking?" I began to yell again, the dried tears making my skin taught.

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw your men. You were ready to take us both down. You view me just as you view him. You think we're monsters."

"It was a precaution. We knew the difference between you two." She explained, trying to defuse me.

"Really? That right hand of yours says differently." I stared her in the eyes.

She looked back, slightly confused before looking down at her right hand, the one covering the pistol. I saw the surprise in her face as she looked back up at me.

"I-" She started, removing her hand from the gun.

"Don't even start. As I see it, this could have been easily avoided had you decided to use those guns…on the right person, of course. But right now, I'm not so sure you know who's who."

She remained silent, dropping me from her sight.

I bared my teeth and almost dropped her on the spot. It would have been so easy to land one, killing blow to her face. End her life there. But that wasn't me. And it wouldn't be me. Killing someone I simply disliked wouldn't abide by my rules.

I began to walk away, ignoring her completely.

"Don't do anything stupid." She stated.

I didn't look at her, I just pressed on into the night, keeping myself while ignoring the chill of the winter night and the dance of the snowflakes on my skin. The cops ahead of me turned in fear and shame. I furrowed my brow and glared at a few of them. They weren't worth my time. I was going after him and no one was going to stop me.

Me and The Goblin would see eye-to-eye for the last time tonight.

After all, with great power comes great responsibility.

**xXx**

I pulled myself up to the window and stared longingly, coldly, into the office of the bastard himself: Mister Norman Osborn. The office was dark aside from the small amount of light coming from the moon behind me. In the center of the room was a pine wood desk with a fine, polish finish. The desk was barren, empty, aside from the computer in the center. The power button faintly glowed a dwindling blue color. The wind blew fiercely from my right, snow coating me from head to toe, some of the snow entering the office and melting on the hard wood floor.

The computer had been left on. He wanted me to find it. I stepped down from the window and walked towards the desk, the snow falling from my suit to the ground. Rage pushed me forward and into the desk chair. I swivelled the mouse with my right hand and watched as the computer screen flashed to life, the light leaping across my face. The screen had silver box in the center of a sea of neon blue. The silver box welcomed Osborn through electronic happiness, the black text strong against the silver backing. An empty spot for a password beneath it.

"Dammit…" I snarled, clenching my fists.

I lifted my hand to the screen and tapped each dash that indicated a missing letter. There were nine of them.

"Nine…nine…" I mumbled, leaning back in the seat, taking a second to think. "What would you use for a password, Norman?"

OSCORP INC. Nine letters. I gingerly typed in each letter, making sure my frozen fingers didn't misstep. The screen flashed, red lettering appearing beneath the entry box, telling me to keep trying. Laughing at me. My mind recalled Osborn's fiendish plan. The jealousy and hatred he developed because of me. Because of Spider-Man.

Spider-Man. Nine letters, not including the hyphen. Same as my first guess, my fingers went slowly, taking their time. I received the same results. More laughing from the computer.

I growled and turned my attention from the screen, hoping maybe the office had a hint to what I needed. I rifled through the drawers of the desk, throwing aside papers, pill bottles, photos and office supplies. Nothing. I looked behind the desk and noticed the walls on my left and my right were bookcases. The code could be anywhere over there. I picked myself up from the desk and headed towards the bookcases.

Suddenly, my brain wrestled itself from the sadness and grief I was going through, a possibility flashing across my mind. I froze halfway towards the bookcase on the right, weighting the possibility in my head. It was nine letters, it was relevant, and it was sickening. I rushed back towards the computer and hit each letter with a definite tap, the keys clicking and falling. With a shaky wrist, I hit the 'Enter' button.

The screen flashed again, the desktop appearing before me. The OSCORP logo set as his background, very few files littered its face. In the center of the screen was a file named 'HERE.' I half expected the computer to explode and bring down the whole building as I double-clicked the shortcut. It opened up to a file with just a few pictures. The pattern between them was symmetrical and I knew there was a story behind them.

A bullet. The letter 'B.' A pistol. The letter 'M.' Another bullet.

Either Norman sucked at riddles, or he wanted me to figure it out, because it took me less than a second to piece it together.

It was a reference to the beginning of the end. To the day all sense left my life.

The death of Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He was at the warehouse where I chased down their killer. The killer I prevented from escaping all because I was mad at myself.

As I left the office, back out the window I entered from, and headed towards that dreaded heap of rotted wood and rusted metal, I couldn't help but wonder why Osborn had chosen THAT as his password. Had it been his password all along or had he managed to beat me here and change it just for me.

Of all the things he could have chosen…

Why Gwen Stacy?


	21. Full Circle

_NOTE: Finally done! Pretty proud. If you guys don't mind, please review now that the story is complete and keep on eye out for my new story that I'm writing now. And to everyone that read the story in full: Thanks so much. I appreciate it greatly. ENJOY!_

**SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS**

**FULL CIRCLE:**

Memories: They say that's all life really is. At first, the thought sounds ludicrous and baseless, but if you really think about it, it all kind of clicks. You never really realize what's happening until your brain processes the information. That process isn't instant. It takes only a few milliseconds, if that, for your brain to make the connections it needs for you to realize what has just occurred; For you to realize that the air outside is in fact cold, or that the warm liquid running down your leg is not your drink. But by then…it's in the past. Milliseconds in the past, sure, but it's still in the past, and that makes it a memory. And as I stare helplessly at the deteriorating warehouse sitting by the river's edge, its windows shattered and broken, moss creeping out of its wet recesses like an ant burrowing itself out of its hole, I realize that the majority of my memories are not of happy thoughts and the few happy ones I do have are overshadowed by those less pleasurable.

Gwen…

If the theory that life is all memories is, in fact, reality…would that mean my life is shit? Would there even be a point in continuing? Everything I have done up to this point, no matter how hard I tried, has gotten me nowhere and the ones I love either hurt or dead. But to leave and let the Goblin win, let him laugh at me as I watch him destroy the lives of the innocence much like he did mine? No. My life may not be sunshine and flowers, but Peter Parker isn't a quitter.

Especially not when I have a responsibility to fulfill.

I formed fists, knuckles cracking as they protruded from the rips in my gloves. As I charged forward, towards the rusted doors of the warehouse, the only thing on my mind was Gwen. But as I thought of her laugh, and her smile, the sounds of the city drowned her out; almost like reminder of her grime fate, her broken body lying helplessly upon the pavement. I fought through tears as I swung open the front door and entered the darkness. The door slammed shut behind me, the hinges too old and too weak to be moved, and I was greeted with the bask of the dim moonlight through the row of windows circling the building. '

I began to move forward when his voice echoed throughout the building. "Well, hello, Mister Parker. So nice of you to join me. I was worried you hadn't gotten my message or that the death of your 'significant other' had destroyed the last bit of hope you had left in this meaningless world of yours. Glad to see you're still fighting, even if it is for the wrong team." He took a pause and I could feel the muscles in my arms tense. "Hmm…There's something strange about you. The way you're standing there, angry and bitter…I like it." I could hear a grin spread over his face. "There might still be hope for you yet, Peter. There might still be hope."

My spider-sense flared up like a fire-cracker. I turned around, ready throw my fist through the first thing that moved, but was caught off-guard as the Goblin launched himself at me, knocking me to the ground. The attack hadn't hurt, and I was ready to lunge myself back onto my feet, but he had come prepared. Before I knew it, both my arms and my neck were pinned to the ground by the Goblin, leaving only my legs free to kick about as they pleased. I wrestled for a moment, snarling as I fought to escape his grasp, but to no avail. He had played the better man's game. He has managed to avoid as much damage to himself as possible and that had left him stronger, more able to do wreck his havoc upon me. I gave up my fight and stared back at him. I was startled to see how close he was, his breath in my face as the red of his eyes stared at mine.

He grinned a large, toothy smile that stretched from ear to ear. The thought of that being the last thing Gwen ever saw only made me angrier and I began to resist his grip again. "You're a monster!" I growled at him.

"Yes, but I have a reason, a purpose, just like you. So, by your logic, that makes you as bad as me." His grin grew, his lips exposing more of his fanged teeth.

"You hurt innocent people. I'm saving them!"

"Saving them? This is all YOUR fault. You know that, right?" I felt like I should have gotten angry, like I should have ripped myself from his grasp and tore his head straight from his shoulders, but I didn't. I couldn't. I relaxed myself and looked straight into his eyes. "Even before you were Spider-Man, your choices only led to the death of the ones you loved. Your Aunt May and Uncle Ben died because you were only looking out for yourself. Then, even when you gained this new-found sense of bullshit responsibility, you ignored my warnings. You ignored ME. Look how that ended up: Dozens of dead cops, and a father and daughter six feet under. If you had listened to me, none of them would have ever had to die. If you had teamed up with me, they would still be laughing, smiling, dancing, whatever. Don't blame me for your ignorance."

"You're right…" I mumbled through tears. "This is my fault. I should've listened to you, but I didn't. I fought you with nothing but my fists. Not once did I even think about where all that would get me. For God's sake, you're Norman Osborn! How could I even think about competing with that?" I rested my head on the ground and looked at the ceiling. "I deserve all of this. I've been making all the wrong decisions ever since I let that burglar go. Maybe if I had put my pride behind me and stopped him, we wouldn't even need to be having this conversation."

"Look who's come around." The Goblin laughed. "'Bout damn time! Now…" He loosened his grip on my right hand, a sense of security running through him.

With my arm loose, I landed a right hook into his jaw with all my strength. I could feel bone shift and teeth loosen through his skin. His whole body flipped over onto his side and I moved quickly as to make sure not to waste my opening. He recovered quickly, despite the shock of the hit, and scrambled up onto his feet just as my fist passed by him and into the cement floor. I shifted on my knee and landed a clean shot to his ribs, doubling him over before I landed a jab to his throat.

"I said I only fought with my fists…" I stated, kicking him in the chest. "This time I'm using my brain." I hit him with a left hook to the temple and tore his satchel from around his body with my free hand. He looked up at me in complete shock, blood dripping from nose and down into his mouth. "No more toys." I stated coldly as I hurled the bag across the warehouse and out one of the broken windows leading to the river. He watched the window, doubled over in pain, as if he was expecting the bag to come back through it. When he turned around, I was already upon him, gripping his throat with my right hand.

"I-I thought…we had come to an understanding." He gasped for air. "I thought you had realized the error of your ways."

"I would have expected you, of all people, to smell bullshit. Especially when it's right under your nose." My grip on his throat grew tighter.

He took a few deep breaths, staring back at me as I stared at him, and reformed his smile. "If we're going to do this…let's do it right. Remove your mask…and I'll put down my hood."

"No. This was never between Peter Parker and Norman Osborn. This has always been a battle between Spider-Man and the Goblin. It started that way…and it'll end that way." I kept my gaze to support my sentence. It pained me to look into the eyes of the bastard who killed Gwen-the bastard who killed her father-but I held strong and kept my grip around his throat. "The masks stay."

We looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, the two of us knowing what would come of this night. We both knew that the two of us were never leaving the warehouse together. We both knew that it had to one of us, or neither of us. We had played this game too long and too hard for no pay-off. It all came down to this, whether we wanted to admit it or not. It was the end game-the final battle between hero and villain. The only thing standing between the inevitable was my hand around his neck.

So I released my grip. And our dance began.

The two of us weaved and spun through space and time like fire and ice, thunder and lightning. We traded blows in the dim light of the moon, spit and blood spewing from our bodies. The hole in the ceiling let the stars shine through as if they were watching our routine-our tango. For every punch I took, I dished one out just as hard, and he did the same. As our battle continued, the memories of the past supported my fists, increased my strength. Our first battle, Ben's kidnapping, Captain Stacy's death, Gwen's abduction…

My failure to save her.

Each memory only made me angrier and more bitter, and before I knew it, my strikes had become stronger, more aggressive. My arms had gone limp, but the power was still there to back them up. I took great satisfaction in the spray of blood leaving the Goblin's open wounds with each new hit I landed. And with each consecutive strike I landed, he landed less. I was winning this fight. The Goblin only had his own physical strength behind him. But me…I was angry, distraught, and I was using that. I was fighting with my brain. The Goblin was fighting to live, to see another day. At this point, he didn't care much for my demise. I was fighting for vengeance. All I cared about was seeing the Goblin's defeat, even if I never saw another day, myself. At least I'd be with Gwen.

The thought of seeing Gwen again-her laugh, her smile, her very existence-it all built up inside of me like a time-bomb.

Three…

I punched the Goblin dead center in the chest.

Two…

Another strike to the nose.

One…

I kicked out his knee, snapping it at the bone, and dropped him with a one-two combo to the jaw.

The Goblin collapsed on the spot, his breath short, his body mangled and bloody. Every so often he would twitch as he took a breath in, his broken ribs bending as his lungs expanded. I watched over him in a blood-filled sweat, shaking and hurt. My knuckles were more than likely broken, as was my right shoulder, but I barely felt any of it. All I felt was a sense of pure accomplishment, absolute joy. I was standing over the twisted heap of a person once called the Goblin-a name that filled me with terror and grief. I made my way over to him, barely able to stay standing for very long, and dropped to one knee beside him. His breath was short and garbled, blood filling his mouth. I picked him up by his shirt and brought him up to my face. He stared back at me, still smiling, blood dripping from every open crevice. I stared back at him, still panting, and felt a sudden wave of grief take me over.

"Wh-what are y-you waiting for…?" He coughed, using all his energy to speak. I remained silent and dropped him to the ground. He hissed as he landed flat on his back, his broken bones shifting. I stood up and headed for the door, trying not to look back. "Where are yo…you going?"

"I'm going to the police. You'll spend the rest of your days in a padded cell. Not a coffin. I want the world to know of your crimes and see your REAL face. Norman..." I turned around, standing strong as the dust and grime in the air circled around me.

He looked up at me through broken eye sockets and after a moment of silence, just as I was getting ready to leave, he laughed. He twisted and turned as he let out howl after howl of heinous laughter. "Yo-you don't understand this, do you?" He managed to say between barks. "This-this…GAME we're playing…doesn't end like that. Sure, you could send me to jail, watch as I rot away for a matter of weeks, maybe months, and then…when I gather up my strength, I'll escape. I'll get right back into the swing of things. Kill a few people, blow some shit up…the whole act!" He took another deep breath, grimacing as he inhaled. "Then you'll send me back to jail just so that we can do everything all over again. The two of us will be stuck in time, like a broken record, forever bound to an eternal fight that'll last as long as the two of us live. Jail doesn't end this charade, Parker…it only repeats it."

I looked back in complete silence. For the first time, the Goblin was completely, and utterly…right. Sending him to jail wouldn't end anyone's misery. Even if he never escaped, who knows what he would say. Would he give up my identity? What about my address or the names of the ones close to me? And then there's Harry who would have to live through a life of embarrassment and misery once the whole world knows that his father is the Goblin. But if he did escape, the devastation would be immense. The bodies would pile up in the streets, blood filling up the gutters and the drains, all just to get back at me. No…that couldn't happen. It's my responsibility to use these powers for good. Sending the Goblin to jail wouldn't stop anything. If I was really going to use these powers for good, and live up to my responsibility…I was going to have to end this. Here…and now.

I walked back over to him, insecurity coursing through my veins. He smiled and laughed as he noticed me taking his advice. I felt stupid and weak for doing so, but he was right. I pressed my knee against his chest and leaned in one it in order to keep him pinned. He let out a howling laugh. With a shaky left hand, I grabbed him by the throat and lifted my right hand, now formed into a fist, above my head. My whole body shook, the sound of my heartbeat filling my ears. I bared my teeth and stared straight into the Goblin's eyes.

"Be-before you do it…" He grinned, shaking. "I just want you to know…I'm glad I killed your bitch of a girlfriend."

And I lost it. I attacked him ferociously, every strike sending tremors up my arms as tears streamed down my face. I could hear his cries between the sound of breaking bones and spilt blood. I took great joy in knowing I was causing him this much pain. I was happy to know I was avenging Gwen. After what seemed like an eternity, I finished with one more half-hearted punch. My body shook violently and I found myself barely able to stop from crying. I swallowed hard and looked down at the Goblin. Somewhere in the confusion, he had rolled over to his side, face covered by the side of his hood. I fought myself from looking, but I knew I had to. I had to see the cold, dead face of the man who killed Gwen. With an unsteady hand, I rolled the Goblin over to his back, out of the growing puddle of blood, and almost vomited on the spot. His face had been reduced to almost nothing but bloody pulp, every bone snapped and broken, blood covering every inch of green skin on his face. I couldn't even make out his eyes or most of his nose.

But one thing did stand out: His smile.

The Goblin wasn't crying for mercy during those last few moments of life. He was laughing…at me. He was laughing at my inability to bring myself to this earlier, my stubborn, hot-headedness that got Gwen killed. The Goblin had died with a permanent smile on his face.

I lifted my hands to my mask, no longer able to keep from crying, and was just barely able to take it off before my tears, and my sadness, took me over. I dropped the mask to the ground and starred at it for a long time before looking back over at the Goblin and his shit-eating grin.

"Stop laughing…" I mumbled, hearing his cackle over my thoughts. It only grew louder. "Stop…Laughing…" I said louder this time. The laughing continued. I didn't say anything this time, hoping the laughing would stop on its own. It never did. It only grew louder and more ferocious until it drowned out the world surrounding me. "STOP LAUGHING!" I screamed, punching him in the chest one final time before burying my head in my hands and falling over in a heap of violent shakes and tears. I stayed like that for God knows how long until I couldn't cry anymore. But, through all the tears and the heart-ache, I was satisfied. I had lived up to my responsibility. I had saved the world from a monster.

I had gotten my revenge.

Sure, it wasn't pretty, and the memory of me murdering the Goblin will be forever burned into my brain, but as far as I'm concerned, what I did was right. I didn't kill just anybody. I killed the Goblin. And if anyone deserved to be murdered in the dead of night by way of a brutal beating…it was him…and him alone.

**xXx**

The death of the police Captain and his daughter within the same week put the city into a collective silence. The city was so quiet, I put the suit away for a while, actually. The tattered rags of failure are hidden deep in the belly of the trunk beneath my bed. I'll drag them out when the city needs me…when I'm ready…but until then, Spider-Man is taking a break. I think everyone was taking a break. No one truly knew what to do, what to say. Everyone just kind of kept to themselves. It was nice, it was relaxing, and it gave me the time I needed to focus on my own life.

Somewhere, near the center of the city, a newspaper reporter, confined to crutches for the next few months, is focusing on his own life as he is assigned to write a front-page article on the Stacy murders. What seemed like a routine assignment is turning into a nerve-wrenching fit of emotional filled turmoil as he realizes that the world isn't as safe a place as he would like. The death of Gwen only further showed him, past his own kidnapping, that anyone can be targeted and for any reason. Since the police have no evidence as to why Gwen was killed, it only makes the thought scarier. God only knows how long this article will take to be written, and how many pain pills will be used to finish it.

On the other side of the island, a newly-promoted police Captain wrestles with herself over an empty bottle of Bourbon, her head in her hands, as she realizes that the world isn't so black-and-white. A man threatened the life of a teenage girl for absolutely no reason, and her only thoughts were on the man in the spider suit she thought was the monster. Suddenly, things don't seem as clear as they did a week ago. Suddenly, the line between good and evil is drawn. Neither the Spider-Man nor the Goblin has been sighted since the night Gwen was killed. She believes the two of them to dead. And that scares her. Because, for the first time, she worries for the guy in the spider suit. For the first time, she realizes that he may be the good guy after all. It'll take some time, and some more bourbon, before she is able to sort through her thoughts.

The NYPD called me down to the Stacy home to help clear out Gwen's things. With no other family members to call upon, they were forced to call me. I almost said no; almost turned away from the opportunity to put closure on my relationship with Gwen. I thought my final battle with the Goblin was closure enough, but that was Spider-Man's closure. Peter Parker still needed his. Gwen's room had been remotely untouched since the last time I had seen it. Captain Stacy's boxes and belongings still filled the corners of her room. It was there that I found a folder for a case that Captain Stacy was working on before he died. A certain high school science teacher's daughter had runaway to Germany for undisclosed reasons. The police had been unable to do anything about it because the case now belonged to foreign affairs. I contemplated taking the file, hoping Spider-Man could help. But Spider-Man couldn't do anything about it. If Carolyn wanted to come home, she'd come home all by herself.

I visited Harry in the hospital on my way to Gwen's funeral. He apologized for not being able to attend. I told him to stop beating himself up over it; He couldn't do anything about it. I promised I'd come back afterwards to tell him all about it. We recounted our favorite moments with Gwen over cups of coffee. I had to use the bathroom once to stop myself from crying. I took extra caution as to not mention his father. As far as anyone knows, Norman disappeared weeks ago, leaving Harry alone and scared in their apartment. I didn't dare bring it up…for the both of us. Harry had made substantial progress in his recovery. He told me that the doctors asked him if he had taken any sort of experimental drug. When he asked why, they told him they found traces of a substance called "Hobioglobin" in his system. I left after hearing about the Hobioglobin thing. Maybe it just freaked me out too much that Hobioglobin was created by OSCORP, but I could've sworn Harry's eyes had a slight red hue to them.

**xXx**

Gwen's funeral was a week, to the day, after Captain Stacy's. It was terrible being in the exact same spot for just as tragic a moment. It almost felt like deja-vu, with the snow and all. I tried to remain focused on the actual ceremony, but I couldn't. Too many memories, too many regrets. The image of the Goblin's smashed-in, bloody pulp of a face burning brightly in the back of my mind, his laugh cackling over the words of the eulogist. I found it near impossible to keep my mind off of it. Everything reminded me of that dreadful night. Every gravestone, the police officers in attendance. Even looking down at my hands only brought back the awful memories of his blood on my knuckles.

The ceremony ended in a haze, the mob of people surrounding me suddenly standing from their chairs and moving towards their vehicles as if just as influenced by the wind as the snowflakes dancing about them. I stayed behind, seated in my chair in the center of the funeral set-up. My skin stung from the cold, my eyes dried out and tired from all the tears, and yet, I still fought to keep myself from crying as I read the tombstone over and over.

GWEN STACY

The image of her sparkling eyes and perfect smile.

BELOVED DAUGHTER AND FRIEND

Her broken body among the snowflakes and the grit.

DECEMBER 9TH, 1994 - JANUARY 13TH, 2012

The Goblin's mutilated body lying in a pool of his own blood.

I pushed myself out of the seat, head heavy, body weak. I headed straight for the tombstone which caused me so much pain. I don't know if it was the depression, my weakened body, or the cold, but I found myself, on my knees, only a matter of feet from Gwen's tombstone. With each passing second, my vision become more and more hazy as the tears built up in my eyes, my jaw tightening to fight back my meltdown. It all proved useless as I found myself cradling my head in my arms, sobbing and spasming on the cold, wet, dirt ground of the cemetery. This was a kind of sadness unparalleled to anything I have ever felt before. Aunt May and Uncle Ben's death came close, but even then, this was an entirely new beast. Their murder was my fault, but I couldn't stop it once it had already been set in motion. Gwen's death was my fault, both in causing in and failing to stop it, and that it made it all the worse.

I could hear footsteps approach from behind me, but I ignored them. I figured they would see me weeping in the middle of a cemetery and move on. Wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. They continued towards me until they stopped right beside me. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see them drop to their knees, their hand gently landed on my shoulder and moved up and down my back, petting me. It wasn't until I saw the flow of red hair, blown by the wind, that I realized who it was. Without even looking at her, I turned into her and hugged her, crying into her shoulder. I could feel her body tense within my arms for a second and then relax and hug me back.

"Peter…" She started, and I could hear her forcing back tears of her own. "I'm so sorry this had to happen. No one deserves this. No one."

"God, this is all my fault!" I sobbed, pressing my eyes into her shoulder blade.

"Wha-?! No. No, no, no!" She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back to look into my eyes. I looked up, my face red from the tears. "This was never your fault. It was no one's fault besides the bastard who killed her. No one's."

I looked into her eyes and contemplated telling her everything on the spot. I looked into her marble-like, green eyes, filling with tears, and took a deep breath.

"You're right…" I mumbled, looking away, as we embraced again. "It's not my fault…"

It was Spider-Man's fault. Spider-Man being such a strong part of my life killed Gwen and her Dad. Not me. Peter Parker never once had a part of their deaths. Peter Parker was never once the target of Norman Osborn's conspiracies. It wasn't until I became Spider-Man that I had to deal with an insane sociopath like the Goblin. Suddenly, the drive to don the tights again seemed so distant, so far. Putting on the mask only put the ones I loved in greater danger. I could never keep my identity a secret for the rest of my life. It was only a matter of time before someone else put together that Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Then what? I watch as my friends and loved ones are tortured till their last breath. Maybe I won't even get to watch… No. Spider-Man is right where he belongs: In the bottom of the chest beneath my bed. He fulfilled his responsibility. He saved the city from the worst threat it could face. It was time for Peter Parker to live.

I hugged MJ tighter as I let the tears run off my cheeks and onto her shoulder. This was the first day of the rest of my life.

A sort of…metamorphosis, almost.

**xXx**

**THE END**

**xXx**


End file.
